


Oh, The Devil Is Mine

by Enk



Series: (Please) Be My Shelter [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon-Typical Violence, Casual Relationship, Drugged Sex, F/M, Gen, Het and Slash, Intergalactic roadtrip, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Gore, Multi, Non-Explicit Sex, Open Marriage, Other, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Rebirth, Recreational Drug Use, Sex, Slow Burn, Space Adventure, Threesome - F/M/M, Tony Stark Has A Heart, brief mention of tentacle dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-06-01 02:27:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 55,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15133079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enk/pseuds/Enk
Summary: Died and reborn, choices have been made and the universe as it was known ceased to exist with the snap of a finger. With nothing but the hope that there is truth in Strange's words, Tony and Nebula try to find anything that could lead them to a way to win over Thanos while Loki is just trying to figure out what the hell happened.(Can be read as a standalone)





	1. Prologue - What is Dead Cannot Die

**Author's Note:**

> This part wasn't planned. I started writing it as a standalone but it needed a prologue and that's when things got a bit weird. Rating and tags will change with chapters. Reading the rest of the series is not a requirement. It can be read as a standalone.

 Loki was aware of his surroundings before he even opened his eyes. Or rather, he was uncertain of his surroundings before he opened his eyes. He remembered the cold, relentless grip of the gauntlet around his neck. Remembered his final desperate attempt to distract Thanos to give Thor a chance to break free, to escape. The last thing he had seen was Thanos, the last thing he had heard was the sound of his own bones snapping. He sat up with a start. 

 

"Oh good, you're finally awake," he heard a familiar drawl beside his- bed? He turned his head to see Hela sitting on a chair playing with a dagger. The dagger which Loki had conjured in his attempt to- "for a moment I thought he had squeezed all the will to live out of your soul as well." 

 

"What?" Loki instinctively felt his neck. Definitely not broken. "How am I... here?" He looked around the room or what looked to be a room. There was nothing in here which meant anything to him: beige walls, a plain single bed with white sheets. He could be anywhere. 

 

"Oh please don't tell me you think you survived that." Hela sighed and got up to sit on the edge of the bed. Closer to him, too close for comfort. "You are smarter than your brother." 

 

"I died." Loki said. That made sense. After all, Thanos had snapped his neck and while they were nigh invincible, it was still nigh not completely. Not like Hela- "so did you." He raised an eyebrow. "When I freed Sutur. We saw you destroyed." 

 

"Oh little brother," Hela looked at him with the kind of pity that Thor looked at him when they had been younger and Loki had not held up well yet during training. It was still as infuriating as it had been then even when it did not come from Thor. "I cannot die, but your effort was most valiant. I have to admit, it will take me ages to leave this place." 

 

"Well that's at least something." Loki sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Curls. He rolled his eyes and attempted to smooth his locks but he could not feel the energy of this place. He closed his eyes and tried once more, focused on his core to reach out, to find a thread which would allow him to manipulate the energy that existed but he could not.

 

"Still dead, I'm afraid," Hela said and twirled her hair to fall in the same curls as Loki's did before smoothing it sleek again. "I do understand the vanity, I really do. Jotun's with their red eyes and blue-," she shuddered with theatrics which made her entire form shift out of phase for a moment. "Which is why I chose your preferred form, not that it truly matters, you are but a speck amongst the stars now." 

 

Loki looked around and for a moment, the walls of the room vanished to reveal the vast endlessness of the universe around them. Stars clustered all around him, dotting the inky black expanse before him only to be broken up by swirls of coloured gas, nebulas expanding, black holes dragging matter from stars as they shifted the balance of the universe askew. Stars died in massive explosions and came to life again. He could feel incredible heat and the bitter cold. The absence of all life and yet the universe brimmed with it.

 

He no longer felt his body but simply existed among the universe as just thought and memory. Everything was light and free and for the first time since he could remember, Loki felt nothing. He simply was and the peace which came with it, he could not help but allow himself to be washed away by such peace. And then he felt it, a gentle draw from somewhere, somewhere far away. He could not see so much as sense the light of a star, the love which came from it. Mother. Yes, it was his time. He had done all he could and now he would return to the ancestors, to his family, to his mother and wait for Thor. He let go of his life. He was ready to move on. "I am ready, mother," he thought, "I am ready to come home."

  

The pain when he found himself back in the room was dull but permeated every cell when he realised he had been robbed of what could have been peace. A tortured cry escaped his lungs when he saw Hela still sitting at the edge of the bed as if she was bored waiting for him to get on with it.

 

"Are you done?" She asked, the annoyance in her voice was thinly veiled.

 

"I died, why can't you let me go?" He spat as he kicked the blanket off his legs. He had been denied the kind of peace he had sought all his life. "She is waiting for me! Have I not redeemed myself? Have I not paid penance with my life?"

 

 Hela sighed a long suffering sigh and got up once more. When Loki did not immediately follow she groaned and looked at him: "Come on, we can exposition on the way."

  

"I don't understand," Loki said as he got up and followed Hela into a corridor which had the same beige walls and many, many grey doors. And somehow, this struck Loki in an unexpected way. He had been here before. This place was not unknown to him. He had walked these halls before even if he could not remember. When he reached to touch them, he expected, he knew they would not be cold before his fingers made contact. "I know this place," he whispered quietly. 

 

"Of course you do," Hela smiled and for a moment, Loki saw a little girl half her face hidden by a cloak. He shook his head and Hela stood there with long black hair, eyes blue, her battle suit still tattered. Her smirk still incredibly infuriating. "Yet you never wondered." 

 

"I know this place," Loki whispered as he trailed his fingers along the wall and continued to walk under Hela's watchful gaze.

 

The doors, they were all the same and yet he knew they were not. He counted them and as he walked the end of the corridor never approached. Still, the doors were not the same, not to him. He knew this place. It felt as if his heart was beating in his throat, as if he could barely catch his breath but of course that was not true. He no longer had a heart or lungs of a body truly. All of this was an illusion. None of this was real. He stopped in front of a door which looked the exact same as all the other doors, but this was different. He knew this door. He could feel it. Without hesitation, he stepped through it. There was no bed. The walls were not beige. There was a table, like an operating table he had seen on Earth, but there were restraints. He could feel the power in them, even if he could not siphon it. They felt familiar. The cold leather, it had been against his skin before. He had been in this room before. On this table. Shackled to this table.

  

"This," he trailed his fingers over the cool metal of the table, "this is meant to restrain me." He expected Hela to attack, but she did not. 

 

"It was meant for that, yes," she said, there was an edge in her voice, a dangerous edge. She had the power here and Loki did not. Still in his desperation, he reached for a thread. Anything to help him understand, to help him defend against Hela's immense power. He did not react when he felt a tendril reach out for him in return. The smallest wisp, barely an echo of power, but he allowed himself to reach for it and when he felt it coil into him, he did not react. He allowed it to settle and hoped it would grow, hoped that the connection to whatever force was the core of this place. 

 

"But," he turned around to look at Hela with a smile, "it appears I am not yet in it." 

 

"Okay wow, we will have to move this revelation along because I am starting to believe that you might not be adopted after all if it takes you any longer. And I don’t think you are actually almost as dense as Thor.”

  

"It's obvious,” he lied easily, “you are trying to hold me hostage." He needed more time. 

 

Hela groaned and ran a hand over her face. Why was that gesture so familiar? Not from her but from someone else, oddly familiar. He felt the tendril coil and grow inside him as he became more and more familiar with this power and how it worked. Soon, he would be able to channel it. Soon, he would be able to escape this place and be united with his mother once more, to be back among the stars and feel the peace he had felt. It was all he wanted now. To be at peace.

 

"You wish to get back at my brother for defeating you." Loki knew he was reaching but he had no other choice. He needed more time. Just a bit more time. 

 

"This is on purpose," Hela narrowed her eyes, "You are trying to stall." 

 

"Stall for what? I have no powers here. My neck was snapped like a twig by a Titan and you cannot escape this place on your own. Thor must have survived and now you require his help and how best to get him to do that but blackmail using his brother's soul." He was close, he could feel it slotting in place with him like the power of the universe had done before when he had fallen from Asgard. 

 

"Okay I have to admit," Hela nodded and walked around him, "that was pretty clever." She turned to face the door. "I did not think you would figure it out so soon."

 

 "I am not my brother," Loki said as a dagger slowly appeared in his hand, but it was not the clean, sleek, and shiny blades he preferred to conjure. No, it was jagged metal as if he had dragged it from the depths of a fiery mountain. "And I am not your prisoner."

  

"Drop it, Loki," Hela said without turning around to face him.

  

"I think we both know I am not going to do tha-," Loki didn't have time to cry out with surprise when Hela pinned him to the cold metal table, a dagger of her own against his throat. Her face was contorted, eyes bright and blue, her black hair cascading down her shoulders, but he knew what she looked like when she was not consumed by power. He knew what she looked like when she laughed and smiled, when she chased across a meadow, a wolf pup by her side. "You are not my sister." Loki whispered.

  

"I am not." She responded but did not lower her dagger. “Or rather I am not supposed to be.”

  

"I remember you," Loki said when the memories became clear, painful and yet so warm, he could not help but smile. "You used to chase butterflies with Fenris."

  

"That was lifetimes ago." Hela said and slowly moved the dagger from Loki's throat. He could almost sense regret perhaps nostalgia in her voice.

  

"You have to let me go."

  

"Oh you think this is because-," Hela rolled her eyes, "I am not keeping you here because I want you around or because I am blackmailing you brother. If it was up to me, sure go be with the ancestors and twinkle amongst the stars or whatever it is they do, but no, your ass has to go save the universe because it apparently can't do that without you."

  

"So why have you not send me back already?" Loki sat up, the dagger vanishing from his hand. "Why show me this?"

 

 "You fucked up last time." Hela smiled, self-satisfied. "Also if I let you go now you're just going to cease existing the moment you appear again. But, it's almost time, so let's wrap this up and go downstairs, shall we?"

  

"You cannot go downstairs." Loki didn't know why he knew that but he knew it nonetheless.

  

"Couldn't. Again lifetimes ago. Again, you fucked up because you were-"

 

"In love?" Loki felt the warmth of someone else, remembered them coming to see him here, but he could not make out the figure in his thoughts, but he knew in his heart that it was love. He had loved. He was capable of love. The thought was strange and unfamiliar, but he felt the love regardless. Not his mother's but something else pulling at him across the universe.

 

"Okay that's enough remembering." Hela waved her hand and Loki collapsed to the floor. She knelt beside him and brushed a strand of hair from his face. "Do not worry, you will remember none of this once I send you back. Can't have you distracted if you are to defeat Thanos again."

 

Loki groaned when he woke up. His head was killing him. The floor, why was he on the floor? Why did everything hurt? He groaned as he pushed himself up and tried to get his bearings. “Thor?” He found his voice weak and hoarse, his arms threatening to buckle under his weight.

 

“I’m sorry, Sparkles is not here,” that voice, Loki’s head snapped up.

 

“Grandmaster?”

 

“Oh good you remember me. If I’m honest I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

 

“Well then,” Loki smiled broadly. This was an opportunity. He and the Grandmaster had a past, one that had been mostly pleasant for both of them. “I suppose fate sought it fit to unite us once more.” He took the hand the Gandmaster held out for him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify, Loki only remembers while he is in Hela's realm. Neither he nor Tony can remember their previous life (lives?).


	2. Prologue II - What is Dead Can Never be Forgotten

 

There was nothing left. There was nothing left but pain when Tony curled up into himself sobbing softly as he cradled his hands covered with blood and the dust Peter had left when he had disintegrated into thin air. _I'm sorry, Mister Stark,_ the kid had fucking apologized for dying. Tony cried out as his body was wrecked by sobs and pain that twisted and churned inside him. Why not me, he thought, why not me? He didn't deserve to live. Not after what he had done, not how he had failed Peter. He was just a kid. He doubled over in pain and clawed at the sand. Maybe this was it, maybe this was when he would succumb to his wounds. He couldn't breathe. Gasping, he tried to push himself back up but his vision began to fade. I shouldn't fight it, he thought as he collapsed onto the ground. It was what he deserved. He had nothing left and if this was the end, so be it. He would accept his fate and maybe there would finally be peace.

 

He looked up at the sky, golden red, the remains of the moon above him. He could feel a soft breeze on his skin. The analgesic hadn't yet worn off so all the pain he felt was simply in his throat and chest, but it too began to fade as he lay on his back gasping for air. And then, he could see the stars. He could see all the worlds they held, feel all the pain which Thanos has left behind in the ruins of the universe. Yes, he was ready to join the others. He was ready to die. From afar, he felt a pull deep inside his core, inside his soul, beckoning him to be at peace. He was ready. Tony closed his eyes with a soft smile and exhaled his final breath.

 

"Hey," he heard a not particularly gentle voice, "hey wake up!" Tony felt someone slap his cheek. Again, harder this time. "Come on wake up, I'm not dying on this rock alone!"

 

"I'm not dead," Tony said, disappointed, as he slowly opened his eyes and tried to sit up. Everything was sore, especially his side. And then there was a sharp pain which reminded him that yep, he was very much alive still. "Oh god, nope, that's not happening."

 

"Well you were stabbed through the side," Nebula said and sat down beside Tony.

 

He tried to get his bearings. Where was he? No longer outside, the ceiling was metal with tubes and wires falling form a vent shaft. He wasn't on a bed either, the floor, he felt cold metal against his fingers. A ship then, but it wasn't the ship they had destroyed on impact. It wasn’t Nebula's ship. That had been severely damaged on impact with Thanos. This ship looked a bit worse for wear but definitely not like it was about to fall apart. Quill’s ship then. There were suddenly too many thoughts in Tony's head, Peter, Thanos, the Avengers, Earth, Aunt May, Pepper, oh god Pepper. What had he done?

 

"I get it," she said and handed Tony a bottle. "It's not water but it will hydrate you."

 

It was definitely not water. It was sweet and sticky, with an unpleasant aroma and a worse after taste. He didn't want to think about what he had just put in his body. Instead he shuddered and handed the bottle back with a simple thank you. He wasn't dead. Once more, the universe had denied him any hope for peace. The pain in his throat and chest returned.

 

"Fuck," he hissed through his teeth and brought the bottle to his lips again. Maybe he could pretend it was alcohol. Wouldn't that be nice? End of everything seemed like a good time to start drinking again. But this thick, gel-like substance definitely wasn't alcohol. And if it was, well it would have to kick a fucking punch for Tony to want to indulge in it for more than immediate survival.

 

"Yeah, we need to get that looked at once we get off this rock," Nebula said as if there was a 'we' happening.

 

"We're not a team." Tony said and gritted his teeth as he pushed himself standing. It still fucking hurt but he couldn’t just lie on the floor indefinitely. "I kill every team I touch."

 

"We don't have much of choice." She looked at the wall and if Tony didn't know better, he could have thought she was crying. It dawned on him that he didn't know better and the woman had lost her sister. He held out the bottle to her wishing again it was alcohol. It still wasn't. "I'm not good with this." She hissed more than she said when she took the bottle. “I just got my sister back and now, I don't have a sister at all. I just hope it didn’t take him so I can take him apart piece by piece when I find him."

 

"Yeah," Tony said, but in truth, he wished it had taken him, too. "Let's focus on the immediate. We gotta get off this planet before we die here." He couldn't have another life on his conscience. Not after everything. "We get off this planet. That's our mission, our main objective."

 

Nebula nodded but said nothing in return. She, too, became as lost in thought as Tony did. Likely thinking the same thing he thought. They had after all survived the worst when everyone they cared about had not. Tony assumed Pepper was dead and even if she wasn't, their relationship was. Didn't take a genius to figure that out. He had known the moment he had left. He had known that he needed to save the world, and yet... he had failed. He had failed Peter, he had failed Pepper, his planet, Cap, he had failed them all. Tony could feel a lump form in his throat and his chest tighten.

 

"Okay we have to-," he said and ran a hand over his face, "we have to-...fuck." For a moment he was overwhelmed again, his throat and chest so tight he couldn't move. His cries silent as he stumbled and sat down on the floor again because his legs could no longer hold him up. "Fuck," he tried to get a hold of himself, tried to breathe.

 

He counted, slowly, one, two, three, he took a shallow, shaky breath, four, five, six, he sobbed again before he hit nine, but he kept counting. He didn't know for how long and when he started counting out loud, but he continued until he felt calmer, until he realised that Nebula was counting with him, under her breath but yeah one thousand seven hundred and forty six. He closed his eyes again and leaned back to lie down again. One thousand seven hundred and forty seven. It felt strange but for some reason comforting knowing that she was as lost as he was. He had expected her to give him crap for crying, to tell him he needed to pull himself together, but she had lost everything and everyone as well. They knew each other for a painfully short amount but that didn't matter now. Quietly, they counted together. By the time they hit one thousand eight hundred and ninety, Tony felt calm. When they finished at two thousand, he sat up slowly and looked at her.

 

"We need to get off this planet," he said.

 

"Yeah, we do," she agreed and stood up offering her hand which Tony took. With the analgesic worn off, the whole being stabbed through the side was really making itself known. Right now, he had no choice. The nano tech would take a while yet before they would be able to create another dose. And in truth, he wasn’t even sure the suit still worked.

 

"Oh yeah- that doesn't tickle," Tony groaned and closed his eyes for a second as he waited for the wave of pain to pass.

 

"He liked you," Nebula said as she pulled a box from underneath one of the consoles. It was filled with tools, some of which looked familiar and some looked incredibly foreign. "We need to prioritize. Water reclamation and engines. Everything else we can deal with once we're back in space."

 

"Okay normally I wouldn't let you get away with leading with something like that and then just changing the subject but I really don't want to think about your dad right now, so just show me what I'm working with."

 

They worked mostly in silence. Nebula explained the tools, well she grunted and shouted what they do every time Tony asked. Fair enough, he wasn't patient enough to teach anyone either. So for the most part, Tony just figured it out as they went along interrupted by the occasional "well, if you want to kill us right now go ahead.” And then, Tony figured it out.

 

“The fuel line is loose,” he said as the controls made more and more sense to him. “I’m gonna go down there and attach it manually.”

 

“Take this first,” Nebula tossed him an auto injector. “Found the first aid kit, Quill used it, he’s part Terran, you should be fine.”

 

“Oh yah that sounds-,” Tony tried to stifle a cry when he moved to catch it. “Ah well fuck it.” He stabbed himself in the thigh. It took seconds to kick in, erased the pain like nothing he had ever experienced.

 

Tony crawled under a floor plate and down a small crawl space until he was near the engine manifold. It wasn't too badly damaged and the loose fuel line thankfully had been empty when it detached. Tony worked in silence, slowly and carefully which wasn't usually his style, but he didn't want to blow them up. Nebula would definitely resurrect him to kill him again, also not a desirable outcome. He frowned as he put the wrench between his teeth to reattach the fuel line. _I don’t want to go. I’m sorry, Mister Stark._ Tony’s insides tightened as he tried to focus on the task at hand. They had to fix Nebula’s ship to get off this forsaken rock. They had to get away from here. From where Peter had just- Tony gripped the wrench tight as he tried to fight back a sob. He needed to stop, needed to get a grip if he wanted to make it back home.

 

If he wanted to make it back home.

 

“I’m not going back to Earth,” he said as he pulled himself up out of the crawl space. “I can’t. I just- just drop me at whatever habitable planet we hit first and I’ll figure it out from there.”


	3. The Morning Star Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a changed universe, survival is the only option.

_Three Weeks After The End of Everything_

“You are troubled, pet,” Loki sighs when he feels a familiar hand brush against his cheek. He hates being called a pet, especially by a being so old that names no longer mattered. That the universe itself no longer mattered. That _he_ does not matter.

 

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he says but still leans into the touch. It is familiar, comforting.

 

“Oh but we both know that is not the reason you’re scrunching up your pretty little face.”

 

Loki raises an eyebrow and only gets a chuckle in return. For the past two weeks, there had been enough sex and wine and gambling to his heart’s content and while that is far from what Loki considers a bad time, something hollows his chest, a feeling of unfathomable loneliness. The entire universe had changed and he had found himself back within it and yet entirely lost. He can't explain why or how, even the Grandmaster's meditation techniques had yielded no results and neither had more invasive measures, options usually only reserved for criminals and those who conspired against him. Even writhing in pain as his memories flashed on a screen in the Grandmaster's quarters had shown nothing but darkness. And now here he is, sitting on the Grandmaster's bed with a blanket around his shoulders. A bowl of broth is placed in his hands by one of the many attendants, but Loki isn't hungry.

  

"Is it because I tortured you," Grandmaster sits beside him on the bed, "because it brought me no joy to see you suffer and usually I thoroughly enjoy a trip down someone's memory lane."

 

 "I asked you to," Loki says quietly, "I know you bear me no ill will, though I am surprised you did not enjoy watching me suffer. I remember that once you did."

 

 "Oh my darling pet," Grandmaster chuckles and brushes a strand of Loki's wet hair from his face, "there is a difference between watching you writhe and suffer from pleasure and watching you scream in pain as we carve memories from your mind. I really wish you hadn't asked me to do that. Kind of ruined the mood don't you think?"

  

"The mood?" Loki scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Didn't think that after how I left there would be any kind of mood." He does lean into the touch on his back because it feels nice. He hasn't felt a kind touch since they had left Sakaar. So technically not that long, but it still feels like a lifetime ago. 

 

"There's always a mood when you're around, pet, the last two weeks should have reminded you of that." Grandmaster simply says, but he doesn't initiate anything. Instead he gets up and pours himself a flute of bright green liquid that hisses on the table when it spills. He drinks it in a single gulp. "Now eat, then rest and come see me when you wake up. I have business to attend or was it pleasure? I guess I will find out." He winks and leaves the room, closing the doors and that's definitely the sound of the door being locked.

  

Loki doesn't care. He doesn't want to drink his soup, but his body craves the energy after having expended so much during that particular experience. How could there have just been darkness? Not even dreams and he knew it could show dreams because most certainly had shown the nightmares he’d had on Asgard during the interrogation he had faced upon his first arrival on Sakaar. It doesn't make any sense no matter how much Loki wrecks his brain, he can't figure it out. He stands up with a groan of frustration and immediately sits down again when the world tilts to its side and begins to fade bright white. The bowl slips from his fingers and hits the floor with a clunk. He sits with his head between his knees, the bowl rolled somewhere he can't see but there is a trail of soup which no doubt will alert whoever is responsible for his well-being and cleanliness. He does not find a thread of care in his body. Still incredibly dizzy, he crawls into bed. The world keeps spinning even after he closes his eyes and eventually, he drifts off to sleep or perhaps loses consciousness. He welcomes either. He wakes again feeling warmth along his back and soft kisses against his shoulders. 

 

"Mhm," he hums and doesn't open his eyes, just basks in the attention he receives. "I thought I was to be led to you." 

 

"Changed my mind," Grandmaster says as he trails his fingers along Loki's flank. "They said you didn't eat and perhaps I may have encountered a brief moment of worry."

 

"And that brief moment led you to my bed," Loki sighs softly. Grandmaster does have incredibly skilled fingers and an equally skilled tongue when he wishes to use it. And he uses it now to seduce Loki, to bend Loki to his will with words alone. 

 

"Yes well, technically, it is my bed. Every bed on this ship is mine, but," he smacks Loki's behind with a mirthful laugh and Loki should be rolling his eyes but instead he smiles and keeps them closed. "You do have a marvelous behind, has anyone ever told you that?" Loki doesn't answer, he knows Grandmaster doesn't care about an answer. "Anyhow, so I was thinking that even if you aren’t hungry, you really should eat...," he trails off and lets his fingers find their way between Loki's legs. "Perhaps I should help you work up an appetite."

 

Loki gasps and knows he should be reminding Grandmaster that he is not truly his pet, but when those skilled fingers wrap around his length, the rational part of his mind checks out. Instead he opens his eyes, pupils blown as he turns to seek Grandmaster's mouth for a desperate kiss. And Grandmaster chuckles into the kiss, but his hand never stills not until after Loki arches off the bed with a cry as he comes. 

 

"That's it, pet," he whispers in Loki's ear, "that's my gorgeous pet. Do you want more? I think you do." Loki can feel his smile against his ear as he nods. Yes, he wants more, of course he wants more. Nothing feels as good as Grandmaster's worship, his soft laughter, the ways his touch always seems to revere Loki despite both of them known that if he wanted, he could erase Loki from existence. Perhaps that is why it is so enticing to share a bed with him. Loki means both nothing and everything to the Grandmaster and which it is in any given moment will always be a surprise. 

 

"Grandmaster," Loki whispers with impatient need. He wants to be mounted and claimed. If he is to be a pet, his will should be taken from him until he is reduced to nothing but a former shadow of himself, a true reflection of how he feels.

  

"Patience, pet," but he does not tease Loki for long. And neither does he reduce Loki to a former shadow of himself, but Loki forgives that the moment Grandmaster makes him come again.

 

***

 

"Now will you eat?" Grandmaster asks after he has called for a bath to be drawn and food to be brought. 

 

"Yes," Loki says as he stretches on the bed feeling pleasantly filthy as their come dries on his skin.

 

This is a wonderful diversion and since he has no plans in this new universe, basking in the favour of a being almost as old as the universe itself feels as if it is his best choice. Here, he has a bed, all the comforts he could possibly want and in return, he plays to be the Grandmaster's pet, adorned with jewels and silks. He can live with that. He no longer has to prove himself to anyone, not Odin, not Thor, not his mother. None of them are left now. The thought is not as painful as he expects it to be. Curious.

 

With graceful ease, he slides off the bed and slips into the bath once it is drawn. He glances at the Grandmaster with a soft smile before sliding into the hot water scented with oils and flowers. This is a life he can accept, luxury, the pretense of love and care in exchange for pleasure and possession of a one of a kind beauty. Taneleer would be jealous as Grandmaster so had explained when they had first shared a bed. The Collector, Grandmaster called him after that and Loki remembers that night when he had asked Grandmaster's name. It had been the first time he had seen the man vulnerable. It had been the only time he had seen the man vulnerable. 

 

"Now my pet, relax and eat and rest," Grandmaster caresses Loki's hair after he has dressed himself again. "I have to attend more business." 

 

"What kind of business?" Loki asks idly, he does not truly care, but Grandmasters likes it when he asks. 

 

"Nothing to worry your pretty head." There are no kisses goodbye, no reassurances as to when Grandmaster will return. He simply leaves Loki and the door locks once more. Not that a lock would ever hold Loki should he choose to leave. However, for now he chooses to eat peeled grapes and sweet pastries in the bath.

 

 

_Nine Weeks After The End of Everything_

 

“Hit me, Blue, what do we got?” Tony says as he shrugs on a purple and yellow half cape. Something about the place they parked their spaceship screams that he needed to stand out. Maybe because he hacked into the manifest and figured out who runs the place.

 

“Former Xandar outpost, now run by a Ravager clan so as long as they know you’re with me, no one’s gonna ask too many questions.”

 

“Which clan?”

 

“You already know,” Nebula sighs, “why else would you dress like that?”

 

“Like what?” Tony smiles and swishes his cape.

 

“Like an idiot who thinks he stands a chance with Aleta Ogord when he should be focused on getting us credits.”

 

"A man can't do both?" Tony grins at Nebula who barely even graces him with an eye roll. They were getting too used to each other. A couple of weeks ago she would have thrown a wrench at him or set his cape on fire or left him behind. Any and all of those things had been incredibly infuriating at the time and incredibly hilarious in retrospect. Circumstances change but Tony still refuses to acknowledge that they are a team.

 

"A man maybe," she says and disappears out of what had been Quill's bunk. Touché, Tony thinks.

 

He remembers what she had told him when they had first made it to space: _Take Quill's bunk. It's full of Terran nonsense_. At the time, it had felt like a cruel joke, but as it had turned out, Quill's taste in music and Earth memorabilia was terrible and it told Tony exactly how old the guy had been when he- he had pushed the thought away as long as he possible could until he was in boxers laying on the bed scrolling through nonsensical texts that Peter had sent him, listened to the last voicemail Pepper had left. He had cried himself to sleep that night not caring if Nebula heard him. In a way, it truly had been cathartic because after that night, he had stripped the bunk and put all of Peter's more sentimental possessions in a box and stashed it under the cot as if the man was coming back. The rest he had sold, bet, or traded for credits, entries to gambling tournaments, and really anything that they needed in order to keep the ship flying. Living was now about survival, about making the best out of the worst possible situation. Now, he no longer cries himself to sleep.

 

Tony pulls on soft grey and purple trousers- maybe that was why Nebula rolled her eyes, no pants- and looks at himself in the dingy mirror tiles on the inside of the small locker in what are now his quarters. He looks wonderfully ridiculous. Like a preening peacock, guaranteed to attract attention. He might no longer be a billionaire here among the stars but he still knows how to sell it and sell it he does well. They are not scrounging anymore, not like in the week immediately after the end when everything had plunged into chaos and they had found themselves in a universe no one knew.

 

However, as it turns out, the universe demands order. The universe seeks order and while decimated, the Ravagers had picked themselves up and claimed a sizeable swath of space as their own. And people, desperately craving order and the need to return how things used to be, well people supported them. Tony had seen what it looked like in other parts of space, in parts where things had found order of a very different kind, where darkness prevails and one's darkest fears lurked amongst the stars waiting to come true. They had barely escaped with their lives. Now, they stick to the Ravager territories where while things are rough around the edges, they do not turn into personified nightmares

 

He slicks his hair back with what feels like hair gel but he's sure its origins are probably disgusting. As long as he looks good, Tony doesn't care and it's already surprisingly hard to find a precision razor after the end of everything. He had to make his own which is mostly a shattered blade mounted on a small motor. The nicks and cuts from the first time he had tried it have since healed and he uses it to touch up the lines of his beard. He is Tony fucking Stark after all. No matter what happens. He always has that. No matter what. The baddest dude ever to exist thought highly of him and somehow he's been using that as comfort. Probably fucked up but whatever. He stashes his phone away. He doesn't turn it on anymore. It's down to ten percent and he can't bring himself to let the battery run out nor can he bring himself to figure out a way to charge it. Instead, he looks at it for a moment and closes the drawer where he keeps it with a notebook and a few space condoms- ingenious contraptions based on the space suit tech out here. He tucks one into his pocket, just in case. It's been a bit of a dry spell and he is definitely dressed for fun. 

 

"Ready," he says when he finally climbs up the ladder out of his bunk. Nebula is wearing the same thing she has been wearing since they met, only with Quill's overcoat. She doesn't wear the flames. She doesn't have to. The Ravagers respect her. And Tony doesn't want to. He's done with affiliations and teams and really this thing with Nebula is gonna be over as soon as he has enough credits to retire to an oceanfront mansion on a resort planet where he's going to spend the rest of his life drinking and fucking. At the rate he plans on going, he knows he won't make it to 50 and he's totally okay with that.

 

"Are you sure?" Nebula asks him, serious as always.

 

"Yeah," Tony looks down at himself, "attract attention and take everyone's credits, no?"

 

"No large hat?" She shrugs and that is that a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. Tony's never seen her smile and up until this point had just assumed that her augmentations prevented her from smiling. Or that she’s just as fucking miserable as Tony was, but really mostly the former.

 

He just shakes his head and laughs and then he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It still takes a bit of time to get himself in the head space. It gets easier every time, but he still finds that some parts of his brain still have apprehension regarding his new life, as if there is something more out there, as if he should do more. Then he reminds himself what doing more had done: Ultron, Sokovia, Cap, Bucky, the entire fucking universe. No, he’s done enough. It’s not time for that now, the moment he steps foot into the space station, he finds his game face. There are familiar faces, people who greet him with raised glasses as much as they greet him with sneers and scowls. Yeah, he may or may not have cleaned out a few people here. Not his fault they sucked at counting cards or balls or dice or whatever the fuck kind of game they were into.

 

"Hey Tony!" He hears the screeching rumble of whatever the hell the glass face aliens were called.

 

"Hey Twinkles," He grins and oh yeah, he's wearing the guy's fancy communicator he'd won last week.

 

"How do they say on your miserable planet? Go fuck yourself!"

 

"Standing invitation, Twinkles," he winks and walks through the crowd with ease. It's really the same as it was on Earth but without Happy's- he digs his nails into his palm. Can't afford sentimental bullshit right now.

 

They walk through corridors, down stairs, take an elevator and end up in a cupola with a view of the stars and the green and orange planet around which they orbit. And if Tony finds a moment, he will find that he hates himself for everything. But he doesn't allow himself to search. Instead he nods at Ogord who rolls his eyes but his second nods at him. He is welcome here, but he isn't going to get fucking sentimental over it. There are several tables. That ridiculous space rat racing game, cards, dice, and something he hasn't before seen. It draws his attention and he stands silently a few paces away from the table and watches the game. After a small while, he figures it out: three dimensional space chess with a few augmented rules. Long haul. High stakes from what he can tell. Entry levels play an AI, the others play a lady with a clear skull and a giant brain that glows a soft robin's egg blue.

 

She's good. And she’s ruthless. And as Tony watches, he isn't sure he would be able to beat her without going a few rounds against an AI. And that sounds really, really good to him. He loves a challenge. Preferably challenges that don't include a purple Titan who has some kind of fatherly feelings for Tony. He probably just imagined those anyhow because he's always been so fucking desperate for approval from any kind of father figure. When a seat by the AIs opens up, Tony sits down and there's a drink in front of him before he even has time to look up. Ogord nods at him when Tony glances up. Helps when you save a guy's ship from being junk and making it run faster than it did even long before it was about to be junked. Doesn't help when you hit on his wife.

 

"The usual bet, Mister Stark?" A magenta skinned woman in a silver dress asks with a smile that is all razor-sharp teeth. Tony loves space.

 

"Be gentle, I've never done this before," he winks at her as she presses a button which raises the tower.

 

He bets lower than his usual. A lot lower. Still significantly over the minimum bet, but if anything, he wants to look like he isn't exactly sure of what he's doing. It's better when they underestimate you. It's better when he appears weaker than he is. Though if he is entirely honest, he isn't sure how far off from the truth that is. It looks a lot more intimidating now that he sits in front of it. He'll manage somehow. He always does. In the back corner, he can see Nebula watch until she spots her mark and then disappears. He doesn't turn around to look at who her mark is. Her thing is her thing and he prefers to be the one who brings the money. She's the one who follows a mission. He's support. He watches as the figures appear and picks gold because he's predictable like that. 

 

Tony loses the first three rounds and it's a touch concerning how steep the game's learning curve is. Unlike chess, the time limit is way shorter and he's playing on five different levels simultaneously. Whoever programmed that AI must have been as ruthless as Robin’s Egg, Tony is impressed. It takes him several rounds to figure out that the AI predicts his moves about twenty moves ahead and the longer he plays it, the more it learns. So, he starts to play like he has no fear and that's when he starts winning. And he starts winning a lot. It’s the same every time really: a crowd begins to form around him the more he wins. There are more drinks, a lot more drinks, but Tony paces himself. This isn't like counting cards which he can do three quarters into a bottle of tequila. No, this requires a bit more finesse and a lot less celebrating.

 

"You're really getting a hang of this," he hears a familiar voice and smiles when Aleta sits down beside him.

 

"Well, I did say I'm a quick study last time we met." He doesn't look at her, he is still six moves away from winning.

 

"Not many can master the highest level AI in a matter of a few hours," she says, impressed by the tone in her voice and Tony likes that a lot.

 

"Did say I'm a genius, too," he moves two pieces and takes a sip from his drink. The AI's move is crap, he's beaten it already but there is no win until they hit the required minimum amount of moves. "Besides," he looks over at Robin's Egg, "she's harder than the AIs."

 

"That's a lot of credits," Aleta remarks.

 

"It is." Tony simply says and finishes the game before turning to look at Aleta. He can tell there is intent in her questions, unspoken intent. She wants to know what he and Nebula are up to. And that's why Nebula doesn't tell him anything because he won't fail any lie detection or succumb to truth serum if he doesn't know anything. "You know the usual, winning credits, still planning to settle down on that mostly abandoned resort planet. Gonna bring the party and you are most definitely invited."

  

"You know for a man who knows I am married, you certainly are not deterred." It's not a no or usually a dagger to the throat. She really wants to know what they're up to.

 

"You know the invitation extends to your husband," he winks at Ogord who this time doesn't roll his eyes. Oh he so is going to play his odds tonight. Both of them are incredibly attractive and Tony's never been shy about sex with other men or aliens for that matter. Once you share a bed with an A’skavarian, you lose all fear when it comes to pleasure.

 

"Why don't you join us for dinner before you lose all your credits to the Mahera?"

 

So, Tony probably should listen to the part of his brain which screams about traps and danger and clearly being lured into something he likely will need help getting out of again, but that part of his brain is quiet compared to the part which is desperate for a distraction, the part which looks at both the Ogords and thinks that yeah, if he's gonna die, that will be the way to go. He collects his credits and sends most of them to his vault. Just in case.

 

"Lead the way," he says as he gets up from his chair. He follows Aleta through the crowd and up a few stairs to a raised platform where the inner circle sits. He can't see Nebula from his periphery and that's okay. He doesn't need someone to appeal to his common sense right now. Aleta pushes him into a chair beside Ogord and looks at them both for a moment. Like she's sizing them up or maybe imagining whether or not that’s something she would like to see in her bed. He can't tell to which conclusion she comes but he does end up with a glass of something strong in his hand. He raises it to Ogord and nods because he has manners.

 

“I hear you want to take on the Mahera," Ogord says and looks at Tony. "Ambitious even for you."

 

"He beat the AI twelve consecutive times.” Is that a touch of pride Tony detects in her voice? If he managed to hone one particular skill, it was detecting when someone praised him even if they did not directly use those words. Maybe he smiles a little into his drink and maybe that gets him a look from Ogord that he can't quite interpret. But he doesn't think on it too much. After all, there is dinner to consider and the fact that they're docked here for three days. He shouldn't get himself kicked off the station until after Nebula gets back with whatever she is looking for on that planet. So, Tony eats. The conversation flows easily, there is laughter and slaps on his back. His glass is never empty and when their bellies are full, Tony plays against Ogord and wins twice. Sometime a few hours later, Aleta gets up without a word and just looks at Ogord before slipping through a hidden door in the wall.

 

"Time to call it a night, Stark," he says in that gravelly voice that goes straight to Tony’s dick. Alas, it isn't meant to be tonight, but Tony is flexible. His belly is full of food, he won enough credits to last them a few more weeks, and they still have another couple of days here.

 

"As always, thank you for your hospitality," Tony says and raises his glass again and Ogord catches his wrist in a firm but oddly tender grip. It feels like an invitation and he looks at Ogord, head slightly tilted as he searches the man's face for confirmation.

 

"Time to call it a night, Stark," he repeats and tugs on Tony's wrist, his thumb brushing against the inside of it.

 

Yeah that's an invitation all right. Tony gets up so fast, he nearly spills his drink. No one pays attention to them leaving together and Tony can feel his heart beat in his chest. He really hopes this isn't a trap because if it is, he's gonna die half hard. It's not a trap because as soon as they are through the door, Stakar Ogord pushes him into the wall and claims his mouth in a kiss that's exactly how Tony imagined it: demanding and controlled, but so hot that Tony finds he has pressed himself against the man already.

 

"You were right," Stakar says and looks at Aleta, "he does taste sweet." And when he looks back at Tony, Tony feels himself flush and that's surprisingly new, but he rolls with it. “Come to bed with us, Tony,” Stakar makes the invitation verbal as he looks at his wife before pulling Tony into another kiss. Aleta smiles at them from the bed and pulls off her jacket. Yeah, Tony is going to die happy. He takes Stakar’s hand and pulls him toward the bed.

 

When Tony wakes the next morning, he feels fuzzy and sore. His mouth is dry and tastes like grass. And he definitely remembers last night and not just because Stakar’s leg is draped over his hip. Aleta stretches alongside them and Tony can't help the smile when he sees they're tangled together around him. It's a good place to wake up, pressed against a strong chest and soft breasts pressed against his back. The juxtaposition of badass in space and well okay yeah definitely badasses in bed, too. But this, yeah, this is nice. It's not gonna last, but Tony's gonna enjoy it while it does. He closes his eyes again because this is too fucking pleasant to end already and he falls asleep listening to their soft, peaceful breaths. When he wakes again Aleta is gone, Tony is hugging a pillow, and Stakar’s erection presses against Tony's back. Definitely gonna enjoy it while it lasts.

 

***

 

"Oh god," Nebula says when she sees Tony slip out from the secret door mostly dressed. "How am I going to fit your giant head back into the ship?"

 

"You know for someone who pretends she doesn’t understand sarcasm, you use it rather well," Tony winks at her and picks a breakfast drink off a tray. "You get what you were looking for?

 

"No," she hisses and pulls him away from the gambling tables and into a dark and quiet corner. "But I know what I'm looking for and who I have to go through to get it."

 

"Sounds vague," Tony nods, he doesn't want to know more. "You go find the thing, I win us more money after a shower?" He holds up two keys. Station quarters. Nice station quarters. "In case you feel like not sleeping in a bunk for once."

 

"Has anyone ever told you that your need for comfort is almost compulsive?" Still she plucks one of the keys from Tony's hand.

 

"If I had a credit for each time, I'd buy myself a moon." Tony chuckles. "I'm gonna shower and find breakfast and company."

 

"Don't get us kicked off the station." She growls and stalks away.

 

"Don't die." He says quietly but she pauses and he knows she heard him.

 

“Yeah,” she says as she turns the corner, “you too.”

 


	4. Dawn Bring Descends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when the world begins to make sense again, Tony finds that the universe has other plans.

_Tony finds himself back on Titan. Everything hurts, everything hurts so fucking bad. He scrambles back against a rock, tries to get away even though he knows it’s futile. His injuries are grave. He isn’t exactly sure he’s going to make it. He tried so hard. He can’t see Stephen and it doesn’t really matter. Peter has long since disappeared from Tony’s field of vision and Nebula just stands there. She knows as much as he does that they lost. It’s just a matter of how much time he has before he dies. He figures it’s minutes at most. Thanos speaks and Tony has a hard time focusing on his words. The fatigue is overwhelming, if he could just close his eyes for a moment, but he doesn’t want to die with his eyes closed._

_“I hope they remember you,” Thanos says and Tony can feel his giant hand against his face and it’s fucking gentle. And Tony despite all his efforts and resolve leans into the touch like he’s starving. “They never appreciated you the way they should have.” Thanos says and bends to kiss Tony’s head. Tony wants to pull away but he can’t._

_“Dad,” he whispers and Thanos embraces him tender and caring._

_“That’s it my son, just close your eyes,” Thanos whispers in his ear. “You did your father proud.”_

When Tony wakes up, the dream slips away from him faster than he can register what his mind conjured to process that fateful day. The first coherent thought he can form is of coffee and bagels and how he misses New York. Fuck. He runs a hand over his face. Fuck. His chest tightens in ways he hates and it’s hard to breathe. Sitting up straight, he puts his arms over his head but the vice around his chest tightens, makes his breath come in wheezing gasps. He’ll never have bagels and coffee again. He’ll never see New York again. He’ll never see anyone he has ever known again. He is alone. In the middle of the galaxy. Alone. There is no one coming to save him. Fuck. A cry escapes his throat as he scrambles out of bed and stumbles into the wall. He tries to breathe but he can’t, he can’t get enough air into his lungs. His vision swims and flickers as he claws at his singlet trying to rip it off, but his arms won’t listen to him. I’m going to die, he thinks, and that thought, that terrible thought. _I hope they remember you._ They won’t. They’re probably happy Tony is gone. They probably realised that somehow all of this is his fault. He had been so close, so close to save everyone and then- everything he had done had been for nothing.

 

And then, he stops. His brain just shuts down and he sits against the wall and stares at the bed, breathing, his mind completely blank. He just watches the creases on the sheets, the patterns the shadows make, how they flicker with the lights. He doesn’t care that he’s supposed to get breakfast. He doesn’t care that he should be putting in a request to play the Mahera. He just sits and breathes. That’s all he can do right now. That’s all he wants to do. And maybe that’s all he’ll ever do. He doesn’t know how long he is on the floor before the door opens. He doesn’t truly register it until someone sits down beside him.

 

“We missed you at breakfast,” Aleta says, but it isn’t an accusation. “And then at lunch, but when you didn’t place a bet with the Mahera, I thought I should come check on you.”

 

“So you broke into my room?” Tony breathes more than he says. He feels exhausted even if he hasn’t done anything yet.

 

“Technically all the rooms on this station belong to the Ogord clan,” she shrugs. Still no judgment. “You want to talk?”

 

“Don’t think we have a talking kind of relationship,” Tony doesn’t look at her. Part of him doesn’t want to push her away either but the words that do so fall from his lips so easily. “Pretty sure you hated my guts up until last night, which means you want something. So let’s get it over with: what do you want?” He hisses with narrowed eyes. He can’t bear kindness, not when he just remembered everything he’d done wrong.

 

“To give you this,” Aleta takes his hand like he hadn’t just accused her of fucking him just to get him to spill their secrets. He already knows what she places against his palm before he looks at it. He wants to throw it across the room.

 

“Don’t,” he begs quietly, “please don’t.”

 

“This isn’t how we usually do it,” she says as Tony stares at the flames in his hand, “but over the past six weeks, you have shown that you- and quite contrary to your claims- are a good man who follows the code even when he doesn’t know what the code is.”  


“I don’t want this.” Tony brushes his thumb over the leather patch.

 

"What happened to you was not your fault, Anthony Edward Stark," she uses his full name. He hates it. He hates that he considers the flames. "The Ravagers had the same losses as you. We love each other, keep each other safe. You have proven that you are worthy of the flames."

 

"I'm not," Tony says, "I've done things." He runs a hand through his hair and looks at Aleta, hoping she will see the terrible person he is and push him away like he deserves.

 

"We've all done things to survive, and just because we've made terrible choices," she brings her hand to Tony's cheek, "people can change. I truly believe that. And if I did not believe you were a good man, you would not have shared a bed with us last night."

 

"I don't know why I always want people to push me away," Tony can't help but chuckle when he leans into her touch. "It's- everything I ever had is gone and I still cling to some fucked up notion that if it's my fault, I can try and fix it."

 

"Then let go, join us." Aleta moves suddenly straddles Tony’s legs and his hands find her hips, but not without enough hesitation for her to nod. He has never been one to assume consent. "I have to say, you do translate that skill well into the bedroom. You definitely like to take care of your lovers."

 

"Yeah well," Tony smiles and brushes his thumb over the skin exposed by her movements. "I try."

 

"You do," she smiles against the corner of his lips. "Now let me take care of you and then you can make up your mind if you want to join us."

 

The kiss is slow and deep and full of emotion, but Tony doesn't believe for a moment that the emotion is love. It's not, at least not the kind of love Aleta has for Stakar. And Tony doesn't feel that kind of love for either of them. It's different, but it is pleasant. He isn't just a distraction or a toy to them and they aren't a conquest either, no matter how much he has pretended that they were. No, this is uncomplicated and easy. There are no expectations other than mutual respect and that’s exactly what Tony needs. He returns her kiss, nips at her lip because he knows she likes that and yeah, she smiles into the kiss and tugs on his shirt.

 

"You are stunning," he says, breathless when he looks at her.

 

She just smiles and with a wink sucks his pulse. A moan bursts from Tony's lips as his eyes fall shut at the sensation. She smiles again against his skin and scrapes her teeth. Tony isn't in love, but he definitely feels more emotion for another person than he has since Ultron. It's not love, but it's good enough. It's what he can handle after the end of everything and when Aleta sinks down on him she brushes a thumb over his cheek. It's too tender but it all feels so good that Tony doesn't care. After they both come, he flips her onto her back before even taking care of the space condom.

 

"Incorrigible," she gasps when he drags his tongue along her folds, "here I thought I was taking care of you." But her fingers are in his hair and encourage him to move his tongue. He smiles and doesn't stop until she comes again, loudly, legs wrapped around his neck, hips shuddering off the floor, and her fingers gripping Tony's hair so tight it burns. He doesn't stop until she writhes away from him, overly sensitive.

 

"Your manners are impeccable, Stark," Stakar says from the doorway.

 

"Neither of you know how to knock, do you?" Tony sits back on his heels, lips and chin glistening, and caresses Aleta's calf still resting on his shoulder.

 

"I did," Stakar simply says and closes the door behind him, "you didn’t hear me. Understandable, I could hear her down the hall." He walks to the sink and pours a glass of water and sits down beside Aleta. "I think you can release Tony now."

 

"Do I have to?" She smiles and stretches, languid and slow before moving her legs from Tony's shoulders and slowly sitting up to take the glass from Stakar.

 

"Yes, because I can't taste you on his lips unless you release him." That's all the warning Tony gets before Stakar kisses him just as slow and deep as Aleta had when all of this had started.

 

If someone had told Tony he would be in this kind of situation years ago, he would have laughed and laughed and laughed. That's kind of the theme here isn't it? Amusing the fuck out of his old self while trying to be the person he's become. He still doesn't mind, just smiles when Aleta passes him the glass of water and takes a few sips before handing it back. This is probably the healthiest not-relationship he's been in all his life.

 

"As much as I'd like to just join you two for the rest of the afternoon," Stakar says as Aleta leans against him. "Nebula is heading for the surface. I overheard her talking to someone who will meet her on the surface for a trade. To come alone, but we picked up three ships approaching the planet. Whoever it is, they aren’t coming alone."

 

"The surface? Are you sure?" Aleta sits up and reaches for her pants. "We have to stop her. Cyborg or not, the surface is inhabitable. When Thanos erased half the universe, the planetary formation system collapsed. It will take centuries until it will be safe to go to the surface- if there is one- even with a suit," she looks at Tony as he pulled her pants on, "unless you change your mind."

 

"Yeah, I know what I heard," Stakar says and tosses Aleta her shirt and Tony his pants. "Whoever she is meeting is smart enough to use encryption and we don't have time for you to figure it out."

 

"Wrong shirt," Tony says after he's got pants and shoes on, feeling a little less like he's been caught doing something wrong. He hasn't, that's obvious. Stakar isn't angry or jealous, that's not how he and Aleta work but it still feels different. Maybe when this was over, he'll offer a single round to Stakar, too. To keep things fair. In the interest of peace and all that, he’s willing to make that sacrifice. "I need my suit. Only way I can stop her. And don't think of sending anyone to slow her down. When she’s determined, she's not gonna pull her punches."

  

"Also, Nebula is our friend," Aleta say to Tony and pulls on Stakar's arm, "Tony, go and talk to her and you, with me. We can't slow her down in person but we can slow her down if she can't get the pod out of the docking bay. She’ll have to listen to Tony and we can figure everything out then.”

 

Tony runs, shirtless, across the station and to where they parked the ship. Almost directly on the opposite side of where Nebula is heading. She definitely planned it that way. He realises that he hadn't expected her to break their alliance this quickly. Even if he hasn't been a great teammate, he thought- still thinks- they have an agreement which works for them. He slides down the ladder into the hatch and stumbles down towards his bunk. Stupid peacock clothing. He should have brought his shirt. He pulls the nano shirt from the locker and puts it on. The nanites glow in response letting him know that the suit is in fact fully functional again. He sighs with relief as he climbs back up from his bunk. But there really isn't any time to run across the station, not when he hears Stakar’s voice telling him Nebula left the station in a mining pod.

 

"Hey Stakar," he says as he slides into the pilot's seat. "I'm gonna cut off her route with The Benatar."

 

"You sure about that?"

 

"Well I'm not gonna stop her if I put myself in the suit between her and the planet, maybe a ship will change her mind."

 

The ship does not in fact change her mind. It doesn't change her mind at all. It maybe even makes things worse because she definitely fires the mining pod's lasers at Tony and speeds off toward the planet. And Tony does what he has to, he goes after her.

 

"Hey Sunday,” Tony calls on the make-shift AI he had coded over the past few weeks as he speeds after Nebula but that pod is fast because she knows Tony can’t take the atmosphere with any kind of speed, not if it’s that volatile. “I need you to keep a lock on her and find us the best entry point to the atmosphere without killing our ship.”

 

“Atmospheric entry with a space craft of this configuration is not recommended.” Sunday says, without much of a personality. Tony doesn’t need personality in an AI anymore. After losing both Jarvis and Friday, Tony needs utility. Straight forward and fast.

 

“I’m gonna need you to do whatever it takes to change that answer.” Tony says as he loses sight of Nebula’s pod.

 

“My calculations show that even a vessel the size of a mining pod is unlikely to make it through the atmosphere and to the planet’s surface.”

 

“What about a vessel the size of me.” Tony doesn’t have a choice, he has to go after her. Whatever she is up to on that planet, she’s willing to risk her life for it and that means she can’t be alone.

 

“The suit could be small enough to simply ride the gravity waves rather than being ripped apart by them. “But I cannot guarantee that the signal will stay connected. You will be flying mostly blind.”

 

“Good enough,” Tony says and climbs up to the hatch. “If I die, tell the Ogords I accept.” Tony says and pushes himself out of the hatch before speeding towards the planet. “You wanna give me a crash course on how to survive that atmosphere?”

 

“Don’t try to fight against the gravity waves, if you are caught in one, ride it until it stops.” “Do I wanna know how long that takes?”

 

“Anywhere from minutes to decades.”

 

“So the answer is no, got it.” Tony rolls his eyes and focuses on the swirling orange and green in front of him. They’re clouds, which appear to be harmless enough if the green ones weren’t oxidized metals. Thankfully the damage to the suit will only be cosmetic. He can feel the pull immediately after entering the atmosphere, the sound of what seems to be millions of tiny needles hitting the suit. “Hey, Sunday, increase noise dampeners by 50 percent.”

 

The answer is only static. Increasing the sound dampeners manually takes longer but it does make a difference when the near deafening screech subsides to an annoying background noise. At least, he can make out the gravity waves, like giant ripples making the green rear up against the orange clouds. He rides the first one towards the poles of the planet, at least he hopes there is a planet. There better be a planet at the core of this. That thought very quickly becomes the least of his worries when the gravity waves begin to form eddies and he doesn’t need an AI to tell him he’s going to get crushed if he’s caught in one of them. He needs to get out of this mess if he’s going to survive. The suit can weave between the waves well enough, avoid the worst of it and ride between the spaces. Sunday is right, The Benatar would have been torn apart in seconds and Tony isn’t sure he’s going to find anything other than debris on the planet.

 

The gravity storms and clouds give away to a layer of complete calm and it eerily feels like Tony is falling through orange mist. The metal is gone and there is no noise but static as he tries to connect to Nebula’s comm system. And then, he almost hits the planet’s surface.

 

"Fuck!" Tony shouts with surprise because that came out of nowhere and the sensors hadn't picked it up until the very last minute. He banks hard and still feels rock scraping along the side of the suit.

 

It's not a planet, not by any stretch of the imagination. It's an assortment of asteroids in a somewhat stable orbit around each other. There is no atmosphere. So much for talking sense into Nebula in person out of the suit. He does let all the sensors record. What Aleta had said did still ring in his ears. He knows why she wants to finish the terraforming. A Ravager home planet, not a planet taken from someone else, but a planet for all Ravagers as a refuge. Tony had heard Stakar tell her about in communications Tony probably shouldn't have hacked into but too late for that. And he knows that with enough time, he can probably do it, too.

 

 "Hey Nebula," he says on open comm, hoping it reaches her, "I just want you to know I'm not mad but there are major scratches on The Benatar and we gotta talk about why you're so mad." Silence. "Seriously though, what's going on? We can talk about this. Figure it out together. I know I said we weren't a team but- Stakar thinks it's a trap. And I don't know if he's right but in case he is, I thought I-"

 

"Would you be quiet?!" Nebula hiss-screams on the comms. "Of course it's a trap! And I'm an assassin cyborg sent to take down entire empires on my own."

 

That's a fair point, but Tony also knows that he just barely survived getting through the outer atmosphere of the planet. An atmosphere which curiously doesn't really exist here. There's gravity but not even a trace of atmosphere. He will have to review the data back on the station. Now that Nebula has responded, he can follow her signal.

 

And follow he does. Slowly, quietly because he doesn't know the danger here. Once he clears the first asteroid, the mist lifts and in the middle of the barely formed planet, dozens of asteroids weave around each other in an eerie orange light. It unpleasantly reminds Tony of Titan but the barred rocks are black, not red. Last thing he needs is a flashback and panic. He is distracted from those thoughts when he sees the mangled remains of the pod crashed on one of the larger asteroids. He needs to find her, but she is a single person who doesn't want to be found. The ships appear suddenly as if they hadn't gone through the atmosphere. Three of them, hovering above an asteroid near the periphery of the orbits. Nebula. Tony moves as quietly as the suit allows, using the asteroids as cover uses them to get closer. The advantage of his suit that it is small, too small for most sensors to pick him up as anything more than a blip in background noise. When he gets closer, he can see Nebula, standing straight, swords ready as if she's going to take down three ships with nothing but a blade. And honestly, Tony isn't going to put it past her.

 

"You said to come alone!" She shouts on the comm. "Guess you forgot that part."

 

One of the ships sinks closer toward the surface of the asteroid. Tony moves closer until he's just behind Nebula, covered by a large rock formation. He can see her and he has her back as he charges his weapons systems. He might not be able to take out three ships at once, but he can make things difficult for them. After all, he had drawn blood from the most powerful being in the universe. That had to count for something. He can't comm her, he doesn't know her frequency and he doesn't know who else is listening. The ship door opens and Tony tenses. He expects an array of armed soldiers. Actually, he expects anything but the pink-skinned girl in a white dress and pig tails with arms and legs that seem too thin for her frame walking down the ramp in tiny, but quick steps.

 

"Master said you would be angry," she says, the protective suit glistening around her form as she moves. "He would like to extend an invitation for you to join him to discuss what it is you require from him."

 

"He isn't even here?!" Nebula screams and raises her swords. As expected, the ships train their guns on her.

 

"Master Taneleer said you would be surprised when you should not be." The girl is terrified but she still stands her ground. And Tony has no idea what to make of this. "He does not leave his new collection. The devastation your sister and her companions and then your father have caused are too great. He extends his most gracious invitation and hopes you will accept."

 

"And if I don't?" Nebula doesn't look like she's going to accept any kind of invitation.

 

"Master Taneleer said you would say that." The girl says, calmly, but there still is fear in her voice and maybe she isn't scared of Nebula. Maybe she's scared of her Master. "He assures you, the map to Gamora is in his possession, but he will not travel with it. If you want it, you know what he wants."

 

"Fine," Nebula says and holsters her swords in one swift motion that makes the girl visibly flinch. "Lead the way, I gotta get off this forsaken rock."

 

And just like that, she follows the girl up the ramp into the ship. Tony stares after her trying not to dwell on how he's being abandoned on a rock in the middle of space again. He's not sure what to even say. They were never a team but they had worked together well enough that Tony had thought maybe just maybe there could be something there. Only Nebula’s actions make it very clear that there isn't. Stunned, Tony crouches in silence. This was never about him, this was always about Nebula finding her sister's body. He can't even be mad because he gets it. Family matters.

 

"Stark," he hears a rushed whisper over the comm, "don't respond. My bunk, first drawer. Frequency to my ocular implant. Follow." And then, it's static again.

 

"Well fuck," Tony says to himself as the ships disappear. Maybe he should have hitched a ride back with them. “Back through the storm. If I die, I swear I’m gonna find you and haunt you, Nebula.” There is no other option, he sighs and flies back into the clouds.


	5. Deceived by the Serpent's Cunning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki was lost but now he is found.

_Seven Weeks After the End of Everything_

 

Loki is bored. He has already taken two luxurious baths, gotten a massage from one of the servants or whatever they prefer to be called, annoyed Topaz several times by having her summoned and asked her annoying questions until she had grunted and walked away from him. Maybe next time, he should attempt to seduce her. Or fight her, she is built like a great fighter, quick reflexes which Loki can tell she downplays. And if Grandmaster keeps her as close as he does, she must have talents Loki has as of yet to discover. Still, it didn't resolve his boredom and he stretches out on the bed with a sigh. It has been three days since he has seen more than a few seconds of Grandmaster.

 

"I'm bored." He states to no one in particular. "Hey, you," he snaps his fingers at one of the servants or attendants or whatever without looking up. Grandmaster had insisted they stay, for company so Loki wouldn't be bored while he attended business. To keep him entertained, his own personal playthings. Clearly the man has no idea how quickly Loki becomes bored and how much he doesn’t care for forced company.

 

"Yes, Sir?" The servant who responds is a slight, grey-skinned alien with long limbs and ridges on their forehead. They wear the same uniform all the servants wear, glitzy and colourful. Loki thinks they are ridiculous, rhinestones and sequins in bright and garish colours, but the Grandmaster is like a magpie, loves all things bright and sparkling. It is why he loves Loki or at least is entertained by him. "How may I be of assistance?"

 

"I'm bored." He says and only turns his head to look at them.

 

"Do you wish me to bring you more books?"

 

"Ugh, I have already read four books in three days, I have taken more baths in a day than even I could ever anticipate. I want to leave this room. I want to walk somewhere green." And frankly, he wanted to fuck.

 

"I cannot open the doors, you know we both belong in these rooms." They are very patient and it annoys Loki.

 

"You know when I let him call me pet, I did not mean to be an actual pet," Loki sighs and gets up. “This gilded cage bores me. Where is he?”

 

"Would you like me to manually stimulate your genitals to completion?" They ask, their black eyes completely sincere.

 

Loki bursts out in laughter. This is the most preposterous way anyone has every proposed sex to him. It's tragic in so many ways, and not just because Loki for an extremely brief moment contemplates it. He is trapped in the most luxurious room, a decision he had made and it had taken less than a week for him to regret his decision. And now, an attendant without a concept of sexual desire offers to masturbate him to alleviate his boredom. He doubles over laughing. This perhaps is the most ridiculous situation he has ever found himself in.

 

"No," he says, still laughing and wipes a tear from the corner of his eyes, "no that's quite all right." He looks at them and thinks for a while. "But you could perhaps find me a glass of water, I feel… light-headed." He doesn't, not even a little bit. However, he still sways enough to sell it as they rush to get him water. Perhaps this could pass the time and get the attention of the Grandmaster, his prized pet, ill from neglect.

 

"Here, Sir," they rush back with a glass in their hand, "please drink this."

 

"Thank you," Loki says as he reaches out for the glass and collapses to the floor.

 

The fuss is sudden, they kneel beside him, asking if he is all right and bark orders at the other attendants to call for help. Loki doesn't move, keeps his breathing shallow and his eyes closed. Yes, this is going exactly as planned. Someone- not the Grandmaster, how expected and yet disappointing- arrives a few minutes later, running with high heeled shoes clacking over the impeccably clean marble floor. Loki is highly amused and definitely not bored for the moment. The someone lifts his wrist to take his pulse.

 

"Calm down," Loki recognizes the voice as one of the musicians from Grandmaster's private entertaining suites. "He is not dead, he is simply unconscious. Come, help me get him on the bed."

 

Loki can feel too many hands on him, hears a lot of stumbling as they try to get him to the bed. He doesn't smirk, nor does he chuckle. He has had far too much practice with Thor to break his act. The important part was to sell it for far longer than necessary to wipe any doubt that he could be all right after all. It gets hard to do when they struggle to lift him.

 

"He's so much heavier than he looks," the servant who had gotten him water hisses. Most always say that. Loki looks lithe and slender but he is also a frost giant augmented to be an Asgardian. Maybe he can will himself a little heavier.

 

"And what do you think will happen to you if you drop and mark the Grandmaster's favourite pet?"

 

There is a soft collective whimper and somehow everyone appears to have enough will to find their strength to gently lift Loki into bed. At least he is still the favourite. Someone brushes their thumb over his brow and places a cool wet cloth on his forehead. Loki decides that it is lovely and he will continue his charade a little while longer. Surely they would call the Grandmaster if more time passed before he 'awoke'.

 

"Back to your closets," she hisses, "close the doors and shut your ears and eyes. I will tend to him and save us from our Master's wrath." Loki hears the scampering of feet as they hurry to what are tiny doors which lead to tiny alcoves in which they sleep and take their meals. And when the last door closes, Loki feels the bed shift and she- Anita, that's her name- straddles his hips and leans to whisper in his ear. "I know you are conscious." It is not a seductive whisper, it is simply a statement. Loki knows she straddles him to get a reaction.

 

"Mhm is that so?" He slowly drags his eyes open, a smirk playing around the corner of his lips. "Whatever would the Grandmaster say if he found you wrapped around my hips, wanton, like a desperate wench?" The slap is immediate and sharp. Loki chuckles. Definitely not bored anymore.

 

"Whatever would the Grandmaster say if he found you feigning illness because you miss him like an abandoned puppy?"

 

"How dare you speak to me like this," Loki spits and sits up, about to push her off him but she simply laughs, like bells. Her head falls back, long blue curls cascade down her shoulders bright against her dark skin. Loki does understand how she held on to the Grandmaster's favour as long as he she had. Until Loki had returned again. He has had his favour but he never had been the favourite until he had been found.

 

"I speak to you any way I please, you have no rank over me simply because you are the favourite. You know that’s not how it works," she smiles and brushes a strand of hair from Loki's face. "And I am here to warn you."

 

"Warn me." Loki rolls his eyes and this time moves to get up.

 

"I am not the one locked up inside the Grandmaster's chambers, only allowed to leave with his permission and adorned like a dragon's horde." She slips off his lap and shakes her head.

 

"You were summoned here," Loki saunters over to the bar and pours himself a drink, "summoned because of fear that I had fallen ill. You did not come to warn me."

 

"You are of Asgard with the blood of Jotunheim and magic that which goes well beyond the Nine Realms," she laughs again and gets up off the bed to join him. "There is very little which can harm you, certainly nothing in these chambers. I knew you were playing a terrible trick on these poor creatures."

 

"And what if I was?" Loki just raises and eyebrow and takes a drink. “But of course, you came here to warn me? Please, do not let me stop you."

 

"You are here by choice, I don't know why, but you are." Anita looks at him, her pink eyes stern. "You must choose not to be here."

 

"Are you telling me to leave?" Loki thinks that's rude and likely a ruse to get herself back into the position of the Grandmaster's favourite because she misses these chambers.

 

"I am telling you to run before it's too late." She grips his hand. The grip is too tight, too desperate. Loki almost feels pity for her. Almost.

 

"Unhand me before I will make you regret ever laying your hand on me," he says and just for a brief moment summons a small amount of energy, enough to create sufficient pain for her to withdraw her hand with a surprised cry. “I am not the helpless beast you think me to be.” He drives the point home with small charge of energy which singes her hair.

 

"Leave while you can, while you still have these abilities," she stumbles backwards clutching her hand, "leave, run before it's too late." She flees the room in tears and Loki finishes draining his glass with a smile. Yes, he most certainly is no longer bored. He pours himself another drink and saunters to the window and presses his hand against the control panel.

 

The window coverings move and reveal the dome across the top of the room, a ceiling of starry skies. Loki dims the lights until they are but a soft blue glow enhanced by the light of the stars which now feel as if they are all around him. These rooms are utterly beautiful and Loki does not spare Anita's words another thought. Instead, he takes off his trousers and tunic and walks to the wall behind which the Grandmaster keeps the things he loves for Loki to wear when others can see them together.

 

Slowly, sipping his drink every few moments, he begins to adorn himself with the gold and jewels the Grandmaster had lain before him one night with a tender kiss. With great care, he weaves gold beads into his hair, braids jewels into it, and places an intricate circlet upon his head, a fire jewel falling between his brows. He paints his lips with gold, a stripe down his chin to mirror the Grandmaster's markings. He dusts his shoulders and collar bones with iridescent powder, his skin shimmering beneath the golden chains which fall over his chest and arms. The only cloth he wears is golden and falls over his groin and behind to give but the illusion of modesty.

 

"Oh my sweet pet, I was hoping you had changed," he hears the Grandmaster's voice behind him and he smiles.

 

"I thought you would like to see me at my best when you returned." Loki says as he steps towards Grandmaster. Something is different but he cannot tell what it is. That stupid Anita put these ridiculous thoughts in his head. After all, she simply means to return to the Grandmaster's favour. Favour Loki has right now. Favour in which Loki happily basks.

 

"And somehow you knew I would return now," Grandmaster adjusts the chains and plays with Loki's hair. "You truly are magnificent, but you know how you would look even better?"

 

"In your favourite colour?" Loki chuckles and takes another drink from his glass.

 

"I love that you always know exactly what I need, pet," he takes the glass from Loki and refills it for him. And Loki allows himself to change. He does not shift into his Jotun form, no, he wishes to be touched and even if Grandmaster is possibly billions of years old, he still is not impervious to being frozen. No, he simply turns his skin blue, allows markings to show across his body and instead of red, he lets his eyes shift to black, the way Grandmaster loves them best.

 

"Is this what you wished?" He asks and leans against him with a coy smile.

 

"Oh yes, this is most definitely what I wished, Loki," he shivers a little when Loki trails his fingers over the front of his robe.

 

"And is this something else you wish?" He gently tugs on the belt with a raised eyebrow.

 

"Wishing yes," Grandmaster pulls away suddenly. It’s a bit jarring when Loki realises Topaz and a half dozen guards are standing by the door. He doesn’t mind an audience, he would just like to know they’re there. "Topaz, give me his present and then well go away. Unless you want to watch, then just be quiet." Topaz hands Grandmaster a vial with a scoff and leaves the room. Maybe one day, Loki thinks bemused.

 

"A present for me?" He looks hesitant, he isn't but Grandmaster loves when he plays a little coy. "What could I have done to possibly deserve such a gesture of good will?"

 

"Ah yes, I missed that silver tongue of yours," he chuckles and extends his hand for Loki to join him at the bar as he pours two glasses of a golden liquid. "I bet you missed using it."

 

"I missed you," Loki says before he can stop himself and he's okay with that. He did miss the Grandmaster, his touch, his tender words, his company. Any company, but especially that of someone who appreciates him the way he deserves.

 

"Then you'll definitely like this," Grandmaster shows him a vial of red liquid and puts two drops in each glass. "This is an elixir made from the flower of a plant that has gone extinct in the universe nearly a hundred thousand years ago. Only one plant remains in a very private collection and this is the only elixir made from it in at least a millennia."

 

"And what does this incredibly rare elixir do?" Perhaps Loki should be more suspicious, but in this very moment he only knew two things: he was the Grandmaster's favourite and he had been brought a gift as rare as he himself was in this universe. He feels incredibly treasured and more than just a little flattered.

 

"It can make you taste colours and feel words, it enhances your senses beyond your understanding and most of all, it is a very powerful aphrodisiac. A single drop could keep anyone virile for two days without end, but you, my very special creature, you can handle two drops. I just know you can."

 

"Well then, my wonderful Master," Loki picks up the glasses and hands one to the Grandmaster with a smile. "As we said before Asgard lay in ruins: to good health." He drains the glass because Loki has never been one to shy away from a challenge, especially not when he could cheat. Not that this requires any amount of cheating but he does believe himself in a position of advantage.

 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down, love," Grandmaster chuckles and Loki doesn't notice that he puts his drink down without drinking more than a small sip. "That's gonna hit you harder than you think."

 

"Does it hit harder than you and your riding crop?" Loki laughs, he feels light and carefree. The man he loves- loves? - is with him, treasures him, keeps him safe, the light of the stars above them, surrounding them, the soft noises his chains make when he moves. Maybe it has hit him already, but he finds he does not care.

 

"Oh yes, much harder," he laughs and follows Loki who spins to make his chains make those noises again.

 

"Do you hear that?" He smiles bright as he spins again. "Do you hear them sing?" Not only can Loki hear the chains around him sing, he can hear music in everything, in Grandmaster's voice, in the lights that he extinguishes so they are simply bathed in starlight. And he can feel it, the starlight, brushing against his skin.

 

"Yes, my love," Grandmaster's voice is close, his lips brush against Loki's ears, "I can hear them sing. Show me how they sing."

 

It feels natural, no it doesn't feel natural, it feels incredible, intense, and beyond anything Loki has ever imagined when he hears music in the air. He begins to dance, makes the chains sing in tune to the music as he stretches his arms above his head and bathes in the starlight, bathes in Grandmaster's soft laughter, bathes in the cool breeze which caresses his skin and leaves him breathless. His body feels light as he moves through the room, spins as the stars fall into the room and burst in colours Loki can taste on his tongue sweet like berries. He smiles as he feels himself succumb to a surge of emotion overwhelmed by the feeling in his chest. He spins and the chains sing again, sing louder and louder. He laughs and his laughter rings like bells as he trips over his feet, but he is there. He is always there, catches him with a soft smile.

 

"Kiss me," Loki whispers and Grandmaster kisses him. The world around Loki fades away into nothing until it is just them, no stars, no ship, just eternal nothingness and each other connected by a kiss.

 

"Hey Loki," Grandmaster whispers against Loki's ear with a smirk, "tell me how this feels?" His hand finds its way beneath the cloth and the world comes bursting back, the room, the cool floor beneath his feet, every single star, the cool breeze, the singing chains. Loki comes for the first time with a cry, his body arched back over Grandmaster's arm, his cries uninhibited, loud and without a care in the world.

 

"Fuck," Loki gasps when he recovers, feels himself still hard.

 

"Feel good?" Grandmaster smirks at him self-satisfied and Loki can taste his words. They taste sweet and tart.

 

"Not as good as this will," he slides to the ground and the Grandmaster tastes of the scent that clings to the air just before the snow. Before he reaches his peak, Grandmaster pulls Loki to his feet and Loki nods as he steps backwards towards the bed. The world comes to him in flashes, stars and colours, he feels like water falling over a cliff when Grandmaster enters him. He cries in pleasure, tastes the tear which runs down his cheek when he comes again. His cries mingle with the song of his chains and dance among the stars. He floats beneath the Grandmaster who brushes a strand of hair from his face. The world swims before Loki's eyes, darkness slowly fades in. His limbs feel too heavy to move when Grandmaster caresses his cheek.

 

"I will miss you, my pet," he whispers and softly kisses Loki's lips again.

 

"I'm right here," Loki whispers in return and then the darkness wins and pulls him away from consciousness.

 

When Loki wakes, his head is pounding. His mouth tastes like grass clippings, maybe coconut or dirt. He isn't sure as he sits up to get his bearings. The chains clink so loud he groans in pain and holds his head. That elixir has a hellishly rough hangover, he finds and leans back again waiting for a wave of nausea to subside. Still worth every moment as he remembers tasting the stars on his tongue.

 

"You forgot to mention the hangover," Loki chuckles and turns to look at the Grandmaster he assumes is sleeping beside him still. He is not beside Loki and Loki is not in his bed. He sits on a smooth metal floor. "Grandmaster?" He looks around, he is surrounded by glass. "Grandmaster?" He scrambles up and touches the glass which encircles him.

 

"There's a bottle beside you on the floor," the Grandmaster smiles at him from the other side of the glass. "It will help that headache and nausea of yours. And in a few hours the burning skin, but by the end of the day, you'll feel right as rain."

 

"Why am I in cage?" Loki asks, desperately hoping that this is a game.

 

"Oh my beautiful pet, I am lending you to a dear friend of mine for a while. I told you yesterday."

 

"Lend me?" The pitch in Loki's voice hurts his own ears.

 

“Oh I of course want you back, my darling,” Grandmaster smiles and for a very brief moment Loki wants to forgive him. “It’s just a few hundred years.”

 

“A few hundred years?!” Loki is not going to stay in a cage for a few hundred years. He is not. No matter how much fun he has with the Grandmaster, no matter how much luxury and protection he offers, Loki is very much not a possession and he will see himself out of this mess now. He summons his powers to break the glass but there is nothing. “What?” He says as he looks at his hand. He can’t feel the thread of energy which connects him to the universe and allows him to channel it into power, his talents as his mother called them. Magic as so many refer to it. It is gone.

 

“Yes, I figured you would not be too excited by the prospect, so to allow you to give my friend a chance, I took away your powers.” Grandmaster smiles like he’s fucking proud of himself. “Which yes, you should meet your new- and temporary- Master now,” he waves and a white haired man with kohl darkened eyes and a black stripe down his chin joins him at his side. “This is Taneleer Tivan, though most refer to him as the Collector. I’d comment on using an archetype instead of a name but well…,” he trailed off with a smirk and shook his shoulders.

 

“You are a magnificent specimen,” Taneleer Tivan waves his hands with what Loki presumes to be some form of excitement. “I am grateful to you, En Dwi Gast for your hospitality as brief as it has been and for your gift. I am in your debt.”

 

“That’s your name?” Loki rolls his eyes and punches the glass. He needs to get out of this tube, needs to get the fuck away from these maniacs.

 

“Remember, 473 years then I want him back.” He says as if that is not nearly half a lifetime. “Now go before I change my mind, he was incredibly precious last night.”

 

“Let me out!” Loki screams as he bangs the glass, icy panic taking over. He tries to break it with his bare hands and feet, throws himself against it in a mad effort to get away to get out of this. “Let me out! You can’t do this to me!”

 

“Oh dear, I should have known he would throw a tantrum, I did leave him on his own for three days. Lots of pent up energy still, even after last night,” Grandmaster doesn’t even acknowledge Loki anymore, he simply speaks to the Collector as if Loki no longer exists as anything other than an object. “Maybe put a blanket on it or something, this is really- no this is too hard to watch, we don’t have to see this.” The Grandmaster takes a small device from the Collector and pushes a button.

 

The glass darkens and silence falls over the Loki. He can no longer hear the outside. He can no longer see anything. He is trapped. He can’t get out. He stumbles back two steps and hits glass again. He is trapped. He can’t get out. He screams as he slides down to the floor. Screams until his head explodes in pain that washes over him in waves until he lies whimpering on the floor, fingers digging into his skull. He is trapped. He can’t get out.


	6. From the Height the Angel Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is dead cannot live.

When Loki awakes again, every bone in his body hurts. He tries to push himself up but his muscles feel as if they are on fire. His skin is no longer blue, but the golden bracelets, chains, and adornments remain. His head swims, weaves in and out of consciousness. He blinks and abruptly wakes up when he is jostled, but he cannot see and for a passing moment, he is uncertain that it is not simply his sight failing him. He tries to push himself up again but his muscles quiver and falter under his weight.

 

"What is this?" He thinks or perhaps he says, but his voice sounds distorted, slurred as if he had attempted to compete against Thor drinking. His head surely feels like it.

 

There is no sound, nothing that could give away where he is or where he is or where he- Loki tries to shake the lack of control he has over his own thoughts, but when he does, his thoughts slip away like sand through his fingers. He has always hated sand, there is no purpose to it but to get into places it should not and itch and chafe. Why is it so dark? He tries to push himself up again. Every single muscle in his body flexes and he cries out with pain and exertion but finally he is sitting in the darkness.

 

"Great," he sighs and the chains on his body jingle in ways that sound more like claws scraping over glass than the singing music he vaguely remembers from the night before. Is it still the same day as-

 

The fog lifts enough to allow him to remember the betrayal. It hurts, deeper than he imagined it would. He had been lent as if he were a rare commodity, a relic passed from museum to museum, perhaps he would tour the universe in his new cage. The cell in Asgard at least had allowed for him to walk, to have a bed, and the relative comforts of life he had conjured for himself. He can feel the glass of this cage against his feet and he is merely sitting with his legs outstretched. He trails his fingers slowly over the glass and searches for a thread of energy, but he cannot find it, he cannot find anything. When he closes his eyes instead of feeling a connection to the universe, he just feels tired and in pain. What had the Grandmaster done to him? He remembers painting his face and adorning himself, vague snippets of what feels no more real than a dream and then all he remembers is waking up in a cage, in pain. With deft fingers, he feels along the skin of his neck in search of an obedience disk, but he cannot find any evidence of one. So he continues to search, runs his fingers over his legs and hips, runs them down his chest and abdomen but nothing. Surely, he would not have- Loki checks beneath the cloth just to be certain. Nothing, all that adorns him are chains and jewels and what little cloth he has.

 

Loki leans back against the glass, finding himself completely exhausted from so little effort. Lie down, his brain tells him, lie down and rest. But he remembers how much it had taken him to get up and he will not give that up, not while he still has his pride. He will rest sitting up, with his eyes close because it does not matter in the darkness. The only comfortable part of his confinement is that the temperature is warm and pleasant. Loki closes his eyes with a sigh. This is not the worst situation he has ever found himself in, surely it is not. His brother is Thor after all and selling him as the Lady Sif to a nearly blind Jotun had been hilarious until Loki had found himself in a wedding dressed about to be betrothed himself in order to buy Thor time to find his damned hammer. Loki chuckles and shakes his head. Thor is dead now. Everyone is dead now. There is no one left whose expectations Loki can ruin and in some strange way, he finds that deeply comforting and at the same time he can feel the vice of utter despair tighten. However, Loki’s body and mind are too exhausted to give into either and he feels the pull of sleep at the edge of his exhaustion. Briefly wishes to fight it, but his body is unwilling to do so and gives into the darkness. He drifts off and as soon as he does, his body slides back to the ground, curved along the glass.

 

 

***

 

 

"Good Morning," a much too cheery voice finds its way into Loki's subconscious. "Good Morning!" The cheery voice is more an annoyed shout now, followed by an annoyed knock. "Up, up! Wake up!"

 

Just to be spiteful, Loki wants to keep his eyes closed and pretend to be still asleep or dead whichever of the two will get him out of this situation. However, the knocking and shouting continues. Loki opens his eyes with a glare and pushes himself up with a scowl.

 

"What?" He hisses and glares at Tivan who is the source of the noise.

 

"Oh, I simply wished to prepare you," Tivan scratches his hair and smiles, maybe. Is that a smile or is his face twitching? Loki can’t quite tell.

 

"Prepare me for what?" Loki's face shifts from a glare to unimpressed annoyance. What a ridiculous man and the only thing protecting him from Loki's wrath is the simple reason that Loki is in a cage. He ignores the fact that he also does not have access to his talents to get himself out of that cage.

 

"Transfer."

 

Loki wants to ask transfer to or for what, wants to accuse the man of not making sense, wants to find any and all words that could get him out of this but instead the bottom falls out beneath him. He doesn't even have time to scream before he hits the ground hard. The impact knocks the air out of Loki's lungs. He can't breathe, can't even think. The only thing that protects his head from smacking off the hard ground is his arm. His arm which bends in ways it shouldn't and the sudden, sharp pain drives tears in Loki's eyes. He wheezes with pain as he clutches his arm.

 

"I will give you some time to get acquainted to your new home," he hears from a speaker and before he can react, the glass goes dark, but the light inside stays lit.

 

The scream is involuntary, born of utmost desperation. Loki can't get up, his arm hurts as if a thousand daggers pierced it upon his fall and it spreads rapidly across his skin until every inch of him is on fire. He tries to push himself up, tries to get purchase as he scrambles and writhes on the floor until he is too exhausted to scream, too exhausted to cry. He just clutches his arm, panting, hoping he will pass out soon to be relieved from this all-consuming pain but unconsciousness never graces him. Instead there is a soft noise above him. He moves his head and watches a tiny silver parachute glide down through the air and lands beside him.

 

_For_ _pain_ , it says on a tiny note, _chew_ _the_ _moss_. The small paper box does in fact contain what looked like moss. Loki doesn't have the energy to scowl or make a quip of any sorts. He barely manages to open the box and shoves the moss into his mouth without thinking of the potential consequences. All he wants is relief.

 

Loki chews and chews and just when he thinks he is ridiculous for shoving a strange plant he has no idea where it came from into his mouth because he is in so much pain he can't think, well, that is when the pain begins to subside. Slowly he sits up to stretch. His arm feels fine when just moments ago, it had felt as if he had broken it in several places. The burning of his skin dulls and disappears as if lifted from him. He looks up and it does not make sense. The ceiling is high but he certainly has fallen from higher places and been fine. _Burning_ _skin_ he remembers what Grandmaster had said. What had he taken? Likely worse than analgesic moss. He continues to chew as he tries to think.

 

"Are you useful?" He asks the little parachute, picks it up, and looks at it. The threads holding it together disintegrate in his hands. That’s a no then. Loki sighs again and looks at the note, paper. Useless as well. He moves his hand to toss it across the cell but he does not. Someone had cared enough that he was in pain to give him this and he is quite certain that it is not Tivan.

 

So he keeps the note and tucks it into his belt as he slowly gets up. He is still in a tube, but this is several sizes bigger than the one he had been in when the Grandmaster had betrayed him. There is what looks like a rock formation in the middle of it. It’s definitely not rock. Loki knocks on it, some kind of replicated mixed composite made to look perhaps like icy rocks. There is a large pillow on the other side of the rocks and a small hole with a grid of metal over it. The grate is impossible to lift. He walks around the tube until he returns back to the place where he had started, the small parachute remnants still on the floor. He climbs onto the rock formation that isn't made of rocks and looks at the ceiling. It is seamless metal and his face reflects in it, tired, looking somewhat ridiculous with gold smeared across his cheek. He sighs and wipes at his face. He needs to find a way to get out of this place. The parachute had to have come from somewhere, if only he could figure out from where then this would be much easier. Get out, kill Tivan, steal a ship. Or just get out and steal a ship. Loki could even settle for just getting out for the time being.

 

He perches on the rock. He waits. The glass wall remains grey and dull but the light begins to change, from a soft orange light to a dulled light as grey as the rocks. The grey of the wall and the grey of the rocks blend with the grey of the floor. The air begins to cool and the smell in the air is almost sweet. The monotony of his surroundings begin to lull him into a trance-like state, crouching on the rocks, swaying a little as he stares at the glass and listened to the constant hum of the lights and the soft noise of the air vents. He can feel his heart rate drop and his breathing slow to deep, relaxed and even breaths. Perhaps he had fallen asleep and this is merely a dream. Perhaps he will awaken if he waits long enough. Perhaps in time he will find himself back on the Grandmaster's bed and this all would become simply just a faint memory. Eventually time becomes irrelevant. He will simply have to wait but a little longer. And as it passes, he feels his cares slowly fade away. In passing, he will wonder why. It is like likely Tivan is drugging him, but Loki finds himself at peace with that.

 

The grey fades to clear and the warmth of the lights outside of the cage warm the colouring a bit but not enough for Loki to move. Somehow, he is back on the floor, legs draped dramatically over the rock beside him. The world is upside down. He barely registers the eyes all on him from the other cages, eagerly taking in the sight of a new arrival. Surely they have seen someone dressed in chains and jewels before. Loki tilts his head slightly. There is a fucking duck sitting in a pod drinking tea. He bursts out laughing. This is the most ridiculous situation he has ever found himself in and being the brother of Thor that is quite the feat. This certainly surpasses pretending to be his own father and watching plays about his life while eating grapes. A white-haired head appears upside down and Loki laughs only harder.

 

"You drugged me, you snowy weasel," Loki wheezes through his laughter.

 

"Yes, you were quite, quite upset," Taneleer Tivan either stutters or talks so fast that Loki can't make out all of the words. He assumes the words do not matter.

 

"If I ever get out of here, I'll rip your bowels through your nose," Loki giggles and trails his fingers along the glass like a cat toying with its prey.

 

That seems to get the point across to Tivan because he huffs and flails for a moment before storming off out of Loki's sight. A few creatures in the cages look aghast and the fucking duck drinks tea like that's what it's supposed to do. He has to assume he is hallucinating that part. Has to. He turns his head and there's a Kree, face paint coming off in smudges, clothes ripped and burnt. Loki waves. The Kree grunts. Loki chuckles. A violet skinned creature with pig tails scurries about through part of Loki's vision, fearfully glancing at him once and rushing past. An angry looking gold skinned man is in the cage directly across from him, slender and tall, and maybe once he shuts up, Loki might just entertain himself. He certainly does not appear to be drugged because he screams for Tivan in regular intervals. At first, he can ignore it but as time passes and his vocal chords prove to have incredible stamina, Loki feels his annoyance impossible to ignore.

 

"Hey!" Loki shouts and turns on his belly to look at her. "Hey, hey, hey, you, yeah you, the shiny one."

 

"What?" He hisses at him. His golden eyes are filled with rage so intense Loki can feel it through the glass. Oh that sex would be great.

 

"Please for all that is good, stop screaming." That makes him scream more. "Taneleeeeeeer," Loki whines and rolls onto his back again, looking at the golden banshee, "I promise I will pull your entrails through your throat instead of your nose if you make him shut up."

 

He looks at Loki as if he is going to break the glass of his cell with will alone. And then his head hits the glass, hard. Twice. He can hear the golden skull crack as it caves in above his brow. He falls lifeless to the floor. Loki scrambles up in a panic. How the hell did he do that?!

 

"What a pity, he was defective," Tivan says as he stands in front of Loki's cage, polishing a small cup. He looks detached, bored even. "Are you defective?" He raises an eyebrow.

 

"No," Loki half-sober now shakes his head. "I'm not defective." He raises his hands and smiles, prays his tongue won't fail him now. "I do have to admit what you have added to the air in here is affecting me more than you may have intended to. After all, I am... I am a one of a kind." He smiles broadly and drapes himself over the rocks.

  

"Mhm yes," Tivan nods, "I shall adjust the mixture of your environment. Let us both hope it will not render you defective. En Dwi Gast would not forgive me for a millennia if I returned your body without life... but he would forgive me. He always does." Tivan mutters and wanders off again.

 

Loki exhales a shaky breath. If this is a nightmare, he's ready to wake up. He does not wake up nor does he dare to look outside of his cage again. The gold corpse is still in a heap in the other cage. He had not meant to cause his death. He was as scared and angry as Loki is right now. Well, he had been mostly annoyed and angry, scared just settled in now. Grandmaster lent him to Tivan with the expectation that Loki be returned in one piece. While that is most certainly not an agreement to which Loki consents, he expected it offered a certain amount of protection. Protection he now knows he does not have. And without his talents and the pain he experienced earlier, Loki is not entirely sure that his powers and usually resilient physique still work the way they should. His skin is not blue nor does he feel the strength of Jotunheim when he attempts to conjure it. He feels no power, no thread connecting him to the energy of the universe. None. He is no more powerful than a human and that perhaps is the most disgusting thought of them all to be reduced to such a fragile creature. He sits in silence mulling over the past hours and while his head clears he does not feel completely in control of his wits.

 

Eventually, the lights begin to dim slowly, but the glass does not turn grey again. Loki assumes that it is a method of solitary confinement meant as punishment. However, he is too concerned with his personally well-being and overall staying alive as to test what it would take to get himself the peace and quiet of being alone in his cell. He closes his eyes and exhales a still unsteady breath. He has to think, to think, to figure out how he can get himself out of this mess. His thoughts swim as he finds himself suddenly incredibly tired. He cannot suppress the yawn and when he dares to glance out of his cage, the creatures in the other cells also yawn and begin to settle down. He is drugging us all, Loki thinks and that is his last thought before he loses consciousness.

 

His dreams are fitful, brimming with fear and betrayal. Thanos appears outside of the smaller tube cage and holds it and Loki between two fingers laughing before he crushes both in his fist. Loki opens his eyes with a start to see the small violet-skinned creature staring at him while she cleans the outside of the glass. Still heavy with sleep, he tries to reach out to her, but she shakes her head and disappears. For the first time in his life, he isn’t sure he will be okay. There is a soft hiss of air and Loki can barely register what is happening before he passes out again, unsure he will make it out of this alive.


	7. Depart From Me, Accursed One

 

Tony lives through the atmosphere twice, though he loses some suit function on the way back up through the storms. Sunday welcomes him back and makes sure the ship is ready for him. The damage isn't severe, maybe a few hours of repair time. He really did make that thing as sturdy as he possibly could have. The realisation that he took the suit not only out into space but through a possibly life-threatening storm doesn't occur to him. The suit has always been an extension of him, an armour not only in the literal sense of the word but also armour to help steel his mind against the fear and anxiety that always lurks not too far from the surface. Right now, he doesn't have time to think about that, he has a mission. Nebula told him how to track her. He climbs into her bunk and sure enough there is a small data chip with the specs for her ocular implant. Time to get to work. He takes the data chip upstairs and starts working on adjusting the course.

 

"Sunday tells me you're alive," Stakar appears on the vid screen. Tony looks up, a bit surprised he's being checked up on. He hopes that he didn’t walk into something he didn’t mean to, it’s supposed to be no strings attached fun, nothing more.

 

"Yeah when I get back we gotta talk about that planet." He hits a few keys. It can’t be anything more. He doesn’t want that; he doesn’t deserve that. "Sunday, send a copy of every bit of data we collected to the station's main computer." He smiles when the small screen tells him he has a lock on Nebula. "I think I can fix it, but I gotta do this first."

 

"Of course," Stakar nods and turns his attention to the screen as he receives the information. Maybe Tony is reading this wrong, because Stakar definitely looks like he cares more about the data. That’s the way it should be. "Try not to get yourself killed."

 

"Don't plan on it," Tony grins at the screen. This is better. "Haven't beaten the Mahera yet. Stark out.” He ends the comm because Nebula needs him and he doesn’t have the constitution for potentially awkward goodbyes. He hadn’t planned on saying goodbye period. Three days had turned into barely a day and travel to and from a not fully formed planet. Sure he’s had worse, but he does try not to judge his life based on the one day the universe ended. “Sunday, plot a course to follow that signal. And let’s keep our distance. We don’t want them to know she has backup.”

 

“Understood,” Sunday confirms and in moments the space station is well behind them. “They are heading to the nearest jump port.”

 

“You know what to do.” Tony says as he prepares the ship for however many jumps that would follow. He hopes only one. Faster than light technology had been fun while they were in large vessels. Smaller ones jumped instead and that was entirely an unpleasant experience with a cumulative effect. Nebula had laughed the first time Tony had thrown up on himself. She had stopped when he had thrown up on her. He smiles as he remembers the disgust on her face. All things considered, he’s glad he hadn’t ended up alone on Titan. He never would have survived. He would still give his life in exchange for Peter without hesitation, but he can’t change that. He won’t ever be okay with it, but maybe one day he can think about that day without his heart beginning to race.

 

"Approaching jump coordinates," Sunday announces and Tony leans back in his chair and fastens the seat belt straps. She does all the work now. Tony just focuses on not throwing up what little food he has in his stomach. He should have eaten more but now he’s glad he didn’t. He clutches the arm rests of his seat as Sunday counts down and then, everything becomes a blur. Both literally and in that his brain always feels scrambled. Colours burst in front of his eyes until he closes them tightly. It's always too much. He isn't show how everyone else can keep their eyes open but he assumes that it has something to do with the fact that he spent most of his life on one planet and not hopping between solar systems. It feels like shit, it always does. His insides churn but before he can blindly reach for the barf bag, it stops.

 

"Jump complete, approaching Knowhere." Sunday says.

 

"Don't remember programming you with snark." He looks outside the window and just sees endless space. Nowhere indeed.

 

"Knowhere, until most recently the headquarters of the Tivan Corporation," Sunday says simply.

 

"Show me," Tony says because they're still far enough out that he can't see anything. For the better, he thinks, it means they probably can't see him either. Probably. He isn't entirely sold on those odds but there isn't too much he can do.

 

"Magnifying."

 

And there it is. Knowhere. Good to know they have puns out here in space, too. He doesn't ask why a corporation would build headquarters in the shape of a skull in space. He doesn't follow up when he reads that it's the skull of a being mined for natural resources. If that's not a sign he's not in Kansas anymore, he doesn't know what is.

 

"Where are their ships?" He asks when he can't see much of anything. There is no ship traffic whatsoever.

 

"Energy signatures found."

 

"See if you can find an asteroid we can park this baby and I'll take the suit closer to investigate."

 

There is silence for a while and Tony studies the layout of the fucking skull in god damned space. There's a lot of shit that doesn't look the way it did on the maps Sunday pulled up for him. Destroyed is a good word. There's a gaping hole which doesn't look like a third eye socket and more like someone blew a hole in it. Which to Tony seems ridiculous, the damn thing has a bunch of openings. Then again, he had encountered Thanos just before he had gotten the last stone. The last stone. Vision. Jarvis. Tony closes his eyes for a moment. He has a mission. He has to focus.

 

"Suitable asteroid found."

 

"Okay Sunday," Showtime then. Tony runs a hand over his face. "Keep on standby, stay locked on to my suit. If it looks like I'm in trouble, come and get me."

 

“Of course,” she says. Jarvis and Friday would have addressed him by name. He can hear it even if she doesn’t.

 

"Seriously, don't wait or remember something about me wanting to prove my heroics, I look like I might need to be rescued, you rescue me. I'm serious, no one else is going to." That strikes him. No one else is going to. No one else is going to save him. He is alone out here. No Ravagers venture this way, not even the Ogords. And Nebula? That remains to be seen but he errs on the side of caution and assumes that she in fact will not rescue him when things get dicey.

 

"Of course," Sunday says again and it isn't enough. There's no time for Tony to ponder the implications of being a human who barely knows what the hell he is doing out here in the middle of nowhere or Knowhere or whatever the fuck this isolated place is. He closes his eyes and takes a breath as the suit envelops him. _Got_ _you_ , _boss_ he imagines Friday's voice. _Which way are you going to attempt to nearly get yourself killed tonight?_ He hears Jarvis say, sarcasm might have been the greatest thing Jarvis had taught himself. And it lives on in Vis- lived on in Vision. Fuck. He can’t dwell on this, not right now.

 

"Let's do this," he whispers more to himself than Sunday and moments later, he is out in open space. It's disorienting as fuck, it always is. Flying on Earth had always been a sure thing: barely escaping gravity and if you don't fuck up, you're going to land in one piece. There is nowhere to land beneath him. There is nothing but endless space there. Above him, the same, and to his left and to his right. From this vantage point, space feels vaster than it has ever felt before. The enormity of his own insignificance settles into his very bones. Half the universe vanishes and here he is, still alive among the stars, nothing but a tiny speck of dust. He doesn’t turn around but he knows that the Benatar is already so far behind him that he would be hard pressed to see it.

 

"I believe this is about the time you would like me to update you on what you are flying into," Sunday interrupts his thoughts and briefly, he wonders if she had somehow sensed his emotional distress from the readings of his vital signs. Tiny fluctuations which had never escaped Jarvis, which had always been spotted by Friday.

 

"Ye-yeah, that'd be," he clears his throat, "that's be great, Sunday. Anything change?"

 

"Two of the ships have left Knowhere and jumped to unknown coordinates, but Nebula's signature still remains within the facility. There is some kind of interference which makes it difficult to pinpoint her location, but I have narrowed it down to the upper regions. Transmitting approximate location now."

 

"Thanks Sunday," he means it because it definitely distracts him from the cold reality that he is surrounded by vast, if not endless nothingness. Whatever he does, he can’t look down or up or to either side of him. He needs to focus on what lies ahead. Of course, that’s when he glances down. The vertigo is almost immediate and if not for the autopilot kicking in the moment he veers off course, he would find himself lost in moments. Hence the autopilot. Tony closes his eyes and sighs with relief.

 

"The atmosphere of Knowhere should be breathable, but I would advise you to keep the suit on until I can analyse its composition and verify."

 

"Yeah, I'd prefer that, too, so don't worry, I’m not going to take off this thing until you tell me I’m not going to suffocate." And even then Tony might still keep it on once he’s somewhat safe inside the skull building thing.

 

The skull thing which had seemed merely a tiny dot away from them grows quickly. Tony knows he is small enough that a direct approach won't draw attention to him. Convinces himself that he knows that. Knowhere isn't just a skull in space. It's huge, much greater than the image Sunday had shown him would give away. It's bigger than at least five of his Towers put together. And this is a skull. He can't even imagine the size a creature with such a skull would have. Maybe if he tries very hard but truth is, Tony doesn't want to try very hard. There are plenty of openings in the skull, he chooses a sizeable one near the crown. It seems safest there. He isn’t sure why, but something in his gut tells him that it is. He's gonna go with that.

 

Nothing happens when he enters, no alarm is tripped, no sirens blare, he isn't greeted by a small armada. He simply slips into Knowhere and disappears among the many fallen structures. It looks like this had once been a massive undertaking but now, most appears to have fallen into disrepair and abandoned. Keeping the suit on makes it easier to travel between floors, but he also doesn't want to draw attention with the energy signature of the suit now that he’s in closer quarters

 

"Sunday," he whispers, "safe to breathe?"

 

"The atmosphere is safe and Nebula's transponder is one floor below you on the other side.

 

"Anyone else there?"

 

"Not that your suit's scanners can detect."

 

"Good enough," he says and lands on a ledge. He climbs through a hole into a corridor and follows it as the suit disassembles. This isn't what he has imagined. The place feels odd, a bit like the ship, a bit like a cave, and a lot like any other factor building Tony has ever set foot into.

 

"Four hundred metres, a door to your left." Sunday tells him and yeah that's a good call, to the right of him the walls are gone and there is nothing for several stories. He's pretty sure that the cranes sticking out from the walls after that would catch his fall and cut him to pieces if he did. He wants to run but the floor is too soft and in places slippery. The worst thing he should think of right now is what it would feel like to plummet to his death jogging to rescue Nebula, whom he isn't even convinced needs rescuing. Which of course means that his mind conjures up those images every step he takes.

 

He can see the door. Or rather what is left of it. He has to climb over a fallen beam and squeeze himself through the part of the door it has forced permanently open. The room isn't big but large enough that he doesn't immediately see Nebula. Some of the ceiling caved in at one point. There are remnants of a bunk bed, a mattress in the corner, a few shelves, some broken. A desk on the other side. These used to be someone's living quarters. He silently prays that he doesn’t find a teddy bear or a doll. He isn’t sure he can handle that. However, it looks like this place was abandoned long enough for traces of anyone living here having been eroded by time.

 

"Took you long enough," Nebula hisses and Tony nearly jumps into the wall, "did you walk here?"

 

The fact that she just appears beside Tony makes his stomach lurch. A reminder that Nebula is a trained assassin, that Nebula has more skill than he ever will have. She is enhanced in every way, but there is no blade against his throat. And if he didn't know better, she looks relieved to see him. That's a change, he thinks but knows so much better than to say anything.

 

"Suit's not as fast as the Benatar but much harder to detect." He says with a shrug, hoping he doesn’t show how definitely not under control his heart rate currently is.

 

"You brought the suit?" She tilts her head and looks at him like she doesn't know it's built into what he's wearing. Maybe one day he can actually fuse it to his body and he won't have to worry about not having it near him ever again, but that's still a few experiments away, even Tony isn't going to test that on himself until he's run a lot more trial runs on a steak or something.

 

"Yeah, unlike you, I'm not a cyborg or genetically enhanced. Metal shell is all I got."

 

"Maybe not, but bringing the suit was a good idea," Nebula looks around, appearing to be nervous or on guard. Tony can't quite read her as well as he would like.

 

"I'll take that compliment," he follows her across the room. "So, why are we here? The map, is it real?"

 

"Working on that, but yeah, I'm pretty sure it is."

 

"We'll find her," Tony says and doesn't quite reach out to touch her. "Seriously, whatever happens, we take that map and we go find her, okay?"

 

"Thank you, Tony," Nebula says and pats his shoulder, "but that won't be necessary."

 

"Fair enough," Tony nods. It's her sister, something Nebula has to do, on her own and he gets that. Doesn't sting any less that getting that map will be their Parting of the Fellowship but he can go back to the Ogord's station and help them with their Ravager planet. "Some things you gotta do alone, but we'll get that map together."

 

"It's right here," Nebula holds out her hand. It's a tiny dull silver orb in the palm of her hand. She brushes her thumb over it and it glows green, and when she does it again, it projects a tiny map of the stars. It's beautiful, Tony thinks. Beautiful and easy to obtain. Too easy to obtain, Tony arrived just a couple of hours after her.

 

"Who did you have to kill to get it?" He asks, trying to will the hairs on his neck not to stand on end. Something isn't right, he can feel it all the way to his bones.

 

"For once? No one," Nebula chuckles but it sounds hollow. "I traded it."

 

And when she looks at him, Tony knows. He knows what she traded for that map, _who_ she traded for that map. The worst part is that he can't even fault her for that. It's her sister, her family. He would have done the same for Pepper's body or Bruce's or Vision's. He gets family. Tony for that tiny orb in Nebula's hand. This is when he appears to be in trouble and regrets not having finished the neurological implant because thinking that this is the time when Friday should definitely come to his rescue.

 

"I almost feel like I'm not upset enough," he chuckles and runs a hand through his hair. There isn't any panic rising in his throat, just the cold realisation that this partnership, this team likely had been doomed from the moment they had set foot on that station and maybe even sooner.

 

"Just uh, for the record?" He says because he needs to know. "How long?" He doesn't have to elaborate. He can tell by Nebula's face.

 

"The moment I saw we both survived." She says without any emotion in her voice. “He covets the unique, the one of a kind, and a human who drew blood from a Titan? That is one of a kind.”

 

Tony can't help the breath he takes. From the moment they had both survived. From the moment he had met her. Suddenly, he is sitting in his living room again, Obadiah pulling the arc reactor from his chest while he's paralyzed. Suddenly, he is standing beside Steve again watching a VHS tape of Bucky killing his parents. Suddenly, he feels as lost as he had so many times before. Nothing in his life had been a choice. It had never been a choice. Not then and not now. The fact that he could have possibly thought that after the end of everything would be any different suddenly seems laughable, but he can't laugh. He feels only numb. He doesn't even react when he feels something on his shoulder activate and he crumples to the floor when electricity courses through his nervous system. His entire life is a lie, that's the last thing he thinks before the world is black.

 


	8. With the Mark of the Beast

 

_“So hey I had this dream last night,” Tony said as he overtook Pepper and jogged in front of her._

_“Again?” She chuckled and slowed down shaking her head. “You’re really hung up on that kid thing.”_

_“Morgan,” Tony smiled, “his name is Morgan.”_

_“What if it’s a girl?”_

_“Great thing about Morgan, works for both.” Tony flashed a grin at her. He was testing the waters, to see if she had thought about it, maybe thought on whether or not she would entertain the idea. He didn’t want to outright ask, scared of the reaction, scared Pepper would tell him what he feared: he’d make a shit dad._

_“Oh Tony,” she smiled and gently squeezed his arm. “You really can’t let go of that dream, can you?”_

_“I tried,” he responded, “I really did.” Kind of, he might have looked up whether or not there were designer cribs to match the décor of the bedroom. There were. He tried not to, he really did but in the end, he couldn’t help himself. He’d retired from the Avengers, the world was peaceful enough not to need Iron Man. He wanted this. He wanted a family, a good family. He wanted to be a father, he wanted to be better than Howard had been. He knew he could, he just would have to convince Pepper that-_

_“That’s all right,” Pepper smiled as she cut off his thoughts and leaned close, her voice but a whisper now. “I had my IUD removed yesterday.”_

_“You did?” Tony pulled her closed, forgot about everything around them. The only thing that mattered in this moment was that this was real. They would be a family._

_“I did,” she smiled and kissed Tony. He was never happier. This was the best moment of his life._

 

"Good Morning," he hears a soft knock against glass. Slowly, Tony’s mind finds its way back to consciousness. His face is on a metal floor and feels like the world's worst hangover has settled in his brain. For a moment, he is confused why Stakar doesn't over to hold his hair with a chuckle. Then he remembers: _The moment I saw we both survived._ Fuck. But this isn't Nebula's voice. It's unfamiliar, melodic, pleasant, a strange cadence, maybe a lilt. "It's all right," the voice says, oddly gentle, "your body will need a few moments to adjust to the atmosphere, I tried to get it as close to Earth as possible but after so much time in space, your body isn't used to such an oxygen concentration."

 

"What?" Tony slurs a little as he drags his eyes open. He feels sluggish, exhausted, and more tired than he has ever felt. Something isn't right but he can't focus enough to figure out what it is. He can't focus on anything, every time he tries, the world swims.

 

"It's all right, my brilliant engineer," the voice almost sings into his ear but there is no one beside him. "Rest for a while longer, and when you wake up again, we will officially meet, Tony Stark. The man who has the favour of Thanos."

 

Confused, Tony knits his brows together but what little he can see of the world begins to blur in front of his eyes. He feels dizzy. Dizzy and ill, and tired, so incredibly tired. He needs to check for wounds, but he can barely lift his hand before he is too exhausted to move any further. He wants to ask what's going on, what that voice has done to him, where Nebula is but he knows the answer to that already. Family.

 

"I'm sorry, Peter," he whispers before he loses consciousness again. He doesn't hear the small, violet-skinned girl with the pigtails drag a chair across the floor which is much too big for someone her size to drag, but somehow she still manages. He doesn't see a white haired man in a big, furry coat sit down in the chair chewing at the mouth piece of a water pipe, dragging a deep breath every so often. He doesn't know he is being watched while he is out cold.

 

_“You have my respect Stark, When I’m done half of humanity will still be alive. I hope they remember you.” Thanos said, something surprisingly warm in his voice._

_Tony couldn’t talk, the pain was too much to think of words, but he could feel Thanos’ massive hand on his head. He knew that the giant purple dude was proud of him, respected him, and that should terrify Tony. Thanos was a genocidal maniac who killed his own daughter after all, but instead, he leaned into the touch, desperate for someone to feel proud of him._

_“You would have been a wonderful child of mine,” Thanos said quietly, his hand still gently on Tony’s head. “I wish we had met sooner,” he said and finally pulled away. “Don’t worry, I will not allow you to suffer needlessly. It will be quick.” Thanos stepped back and Tony looked at him with a content smile._

_“Thank you, dad.”_

 

 

Briefly, Tony startles awake but his body is too exhausted to process that dream as it begins the descent into withdrawal symptoms. A few hours later, the chair in front of Tony's cage long now empty, Tony has not yet woken up to regain consciousness when a tiny silver parachute sails from the ceiling through the air, spirals down and down until it brushes across his face before falling to the floor. That wakes Tony who sits up with a start, disoriented, covered in sweat, his singlet drenched. Before he even realises where he is, he knows it's been more than twenty four hours since his last drink.

 

The next thing he realises is that there is a glass window beside him, or at least it feels like glass against his feet which he is surprised are bare. He scrambles to clutch at his shirt when the third thing he realises is that his suit is gone. Of course it is. He had told Nebula that he had brought the suit and she knew it was part of his shirt at least kind of. The fourth and final sequential realisation he has is that he is in a cage. The glass is dull and grey, but it is round, he can feel the curvature of the glass. When he turns around, his fear is confirmed and that's when he begins to notice several things simultaneously: a tiny silver parachute on the floor, a hole in the floor with a grid cover, the ceiling is smooth metal and so is the floor and there is nothing else in here but himself and a tiny silver parachute.

 

"What the fuck," he runs a hand through his sweat slicked hair. He has maybe a day before the hallucinations are gonna kick in and that's after the vomiting and the shakes and the convulsions. Still an alcoholic after all. Still human. Still a shock to his physiology. He should have never started drinking again, but that's what he always thinks. He tries to keep his breath even. If he doesn't exert himself he can make it a little longer, drag out his misery just a touch which will just mean that unless his captor understands his need for alcohol and what the damn stuff even is, he'll add a few hours before he dies miserably.

 

Nebula didn't know that. He never told her about his past, at least not that part. He had begun drinking again one night when someone had offered him something _that'll make hair grow on your chest_. He had known by the smell of it that it was alcohol and he knew that he had made the choice to drink it. Nebula didn't know. The only other human she had known for more than a few hours was Quill and he had struck Tony as more of a casual drinker. Nebula didn't know and Tony desperately wants to believe that if she had known, she wouldn't have traded Tony. And deep down, he knows that's a fucking lie.

 

He sits up slowly, leans his back against the glass and looks at the parachute. There is a tiny note on it. _For_ _pain_ it reads and he looks confused. _Chew_ _the_ _moss_. Tony shakes his head and opens the fragile box which he manages not to tear. And yeah, that's a small ball of dried moss. He isn't going to put some alien fauna into his mouth without knowing what it is. Not again at least. He looks around and can't figure out how that even got here. It doesn't make any sense unless there is a way to access the cell through the ceiling. But Tony has no way to check that out. It is much taller than he is and he's pretty sure that he's going to throw up is he tries to stand. He isn't sure he's not going to throw up sitting here either, but there is a soft knock on the glass behind him that distracts from the urge to vomit. The gentlest tap.

 

He turns his head to see a violet-skinned alien with pig tails. He sees a lot more, too, not that the glass is no longer opaque: other cells, a chair, a pod hanging from the ceiling, it's empty but contains a table and a bench to sit on. There's a tea pot and a cup and that strikes Tony as weird. The violet-skinned alien is just cleaning the glass. She isn't even paying attention to him, but then he hears the tap again. Her pinky finger against the glass. It's a deliberate motion even if she doesn't look at him. She blows up her cheeks and chews on nothing while she cleans. And then Tony gets it. The moss. If she's that secretive about it, she wasn't instructed to do this. He doesn't think that elaborate a rouse is necessary if it could just be shoved down his throat. He picks up the moss and puts it in his mouth. It dissolves into a consistency of an incredibly soft chewing gum almost immediately. It tastes... well kind of how he would have expected moss to taste: vegetal, musty, but surprisingly not dry. He chews and the nausea lifts from him and he can't help but close his eyes with relief, but he opens them again to thank her to let her know he gets it and understands but she glances back over her shoulder and shakes her head. He tucks the moss between his molars and his cheek just before a white-haired man saunters into sight.

 

"Thank you, Carina," he says and the girl bows and walks away in an odd, stiff manner that she hadn't had when she had cleaned the cage without the man's presence. “I hope you rested well, my Engineer.”

 

“Rested? Are you-, fuck okay,” Tony sits up and looks at the guy, “what is your deal?

 

"I see you have rested well, my engineer," the dude says like he hasn't heard Tony's question. Of course he has, but he's ignoring it.

 

"Hey," Tony slams his hand against the glass, "what's your deal? Let me out!"

 

"Oh but you are adjusting so well to your new home," he says, his voice still with a weird lilting sing-song, maybe that's how he talks. "You slept like a child for hours."

 

"Dude, you electrocuted me!" Tony scrambles up and looks down at the guy.

 

"Your associate did that," he smiles and sits down in a chair, "I would have preferred to not expose you to potential harm, you are quite a unique specimen after all."

 

"Specimen," Tony's eyes bulge for a second and he turns around and runs a through his hair. "I'm not a fucking specimen, I'm a human and you need to let me go."

 

"Oh but you know the deal I brokered with your associate," he leans back in his chair. The girl- Carina- presents him with a drink and he takes a sip. She looks terrified until he nods and shoos her away. "Thank you Carina, now go make yourself useful."

 

"Yeah, I figured that out," Tony looks around the cell and apparently the guy knows what he's looking for.

 

"You will find it impossible to get out without help," the guy doesn't seem particularly concerned and judging by the other cells and cages, which probably goes for the other ones as well. Most of them are grey or dimmed so Tony can't see inside them, but there's a fucking duck drinking tea in the pod that was empty earlier.

 

"Is that a duck?!" Tony points at the duck and apparently he said that loud enough for the duck to pause and look at him, roll its eyes, and return back to his tea cup. “That’s a duck, drinking tea.”

 

"There are many fascinating specimen here, Howard is but one of them."

 

Of fucking course the god damned duck shares a name with Tony's dad. Tony runs a hand over his face again, he can feel the sweat on his skin. He's gotta start negotiating something here, otherwise he's going to be a convulsing, hallucinating pile of withdrawal symptoms until his body goes into shock and cardiac arrest.

 

"Okay just so that we're on the same page," he sighs but he's not resigning himself to this just yet. He needs to make sure he's going to be alive to get himself out of this mess. "I'm an alcoholic which means if I don't get any alcohol soon, it'll start with vomiting, a fever, I'll probably hallucinate, and then my body is gonna shut down and you'll have traded maybe three or four days with me for a map that's I’m willing to bet worth a lot more than that."

 

The guy listens but he doesn't say anything for a while as he sips his drink, something syrupy and red that stains his lips and teeth. Tony groans and sits back down. This isn't what he expected to happen. Of course not, he had thought that he and Nebula had become friends. After the end of everything it had just been them for long enough that it felt like there was something, trust, kinship, whatever. Tony would have gone with her to find her sister no matter what the cost because he cared about her- no, he still fucking cares because he gets it. He wouldn't have betrayed her. He would have tried to figure it out. He's over no-win scenarios.

 

"All right," the guy finally says and looks at Tony, "it would be a grave disappointment to lose you so quickly. I have already lost everything and I do not wish to lose my collection again." He gets up and walks to the glass and looks at Tony. "I will have your atmosphere adjusted, Anthony Stark," he says and his face looks almost like he cares, not about Tony but he does care about possessing Tony. "You will likely feel fatigued for a while."

 

"Yeah what else is new?" Tony sighs and runs a hand over his face.

 

"I assure you," the guy says like whatever else follows that is gonna actually assure Tony, "you will get acquainted with your new environment in time. You will want for nothing and your care will be outstanding."

 

"Except for my freedom, right?" Tony looks at his hand, it isn't shaking yet but it is feeling rather clammy.

 

The guy waves at the Carina girl and whispers in her ear. Everything about him is infuriatingly casual, the way he leans in his chair, the way he speaks to Carina. The guy looks like he has not a single care in the world. Tony's seen than before, that nonchalance. The culling of the universe had been swift and some of those who survived consider themselves chosen by fate. Tony can't relate to that, but he bets that it's what makes the guy smile when he glances over when he pulls away from Carina. He stands up and saunters away without another word.

 

For a few moments, Carina stands frozen, stiff, only her eyes following him. Tony assumes he is at the very least out of ear shot when she stiffly walks over to the glass and looks at Tony.

 

"My Master has instructed me to adjust your atmosphere to help you," she says, her voice sounds like she is trying not to sing and it's strange. She busies herself with a tablet she holds in her hands.

 

"Hey," Tony says as he moves closer toward her. He doesn't know exactly how it works that he can hear her as if there's no glass between them, but he isn't gonna ask right now. "I just wanted to thank you, for the-"

 

"Your atmosphere has been adjusted," Carina sing-songs louder than Tony would have imagined. "Once you awake again, do thank your new Master, Taneleer Tivan, and show him your gratitude by being an exemplary specimen." And before Tony can say anything else, she walks away with surprising speed.

 

Tony doesn't try to stop her. It's obvious she is terrified of the guy, Taneleer was it? He doesn't blame her. She's just trying to survive like Tony is. It strikes Tony then that maybe he should be more suspicious after Nebula had betrayed him, but he realises that his fatal flaw might be the desperate need to trust someone because he can't trust himself. Every time he has trusted himself, his life had gotten worse. He can hear the hiss of the ventilation system. Probably a sedative, but for now, he's okay with being passed out for the remainder of his withdrawals. He's done all of that one too many times to want to be conscious through any of it. He lies down on the floor using his elbow as a pillow and stares out of the cell. The other cells have become opaque, revealing their inhabitants. There's a Kree, a plant, a liquid-filled tank which appears to be empty but Tony is pretty sure it's not and directly across from him, the habitat looks like a penguin enclosure at a zoo. He can feel the fatigue settle into his bones when he sees a sleeping form clad in golden chains with long black hair flowing to the floor.

 

"Not a penguin," Tony chuckles and falls back asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been a bit longer than anticipated. Life (read: a summer cold) got in the way of writing.


	9. And the Serpent Spewed Forth Nothing

_“You are most precious, do you know that?” Grandmaster smiled as he took a sip from his glass. “I would love to touch you like this.”_

_“I can tell,” Loki smiled and leaned back in his chair, a throne of ice. His skin was blue and marked, eyes red, and unlike all the other times before, Loki felt no shame of his heritage. Nor did he feel it took away from his rightful place in Asgard. He had already proven himself to the people, even if Thor disagreed. “But it would be a shame to end our evening before it has even begun.”_

_“Still, blue suits you well and perhaps at a later date we can… explore what options we have here.” Grandmaster smiled and chuckled to himself and Loki found that rather quite endearing. “For now though, I’d really like it if you came over here in your preferred form. There is something I’d like to try.”_

_“And what is that?” Loki slipped back into himself with ease as he stood up and sauntered over to where the Grandmaster sat._

_“I think you already know,” he smiled at Loki and reached out to pull him closer. He smiled and kissed Loki’s hip before pushing him back over the edge of the rainbow bridge._

 

Loki wakes with a start but he doesn’t immediately know why. His mouth is dry and there is a dull ache behind his eyes. Then, as he feels the hard ground beneath him and his eyes focus on the grey glass in front of him, the world pieces itself back together as the glass turns clear. Another day trapped and likely another day ignored by the Collector. In the first few days, he at least still visited Loki, but now, his attention has been pulled away by something else. Something across the room from Loki but he has not yet seen who or what it is. The glass always grey when his own is clear. He would find it infuriating if he could bring himself to care.

 

That had been his life, somewhere between waking and asleep, mostly asleep. He doesn't remember the last time he has eaten or felt hunger or thirst. He does not appear to be wasting away, he has checked, vaguely by lifting some of the chains and checking his ribs. Loki does not feel like he is wasting away either; Loki does not feel anything. Not even betrayal or disappointment when he thinks of his Grandmaster. There is no fondness, no anger. Even thinking of Tevan does not elicit any reaction from him. He feels nothing. Part of him knows there is something very wrong. Most of him does not care. He turns around and stretches and closes his eyes to go back to sleep when he hears a soft knock against the glass of his cell. The girl Tevan calls Carina looks at him with worried eyes.

 

"I am fine," he assures her though his words slur together. He closes his eyes again. Perhaps he can sleep through the next couple of hundred years.

 

"Master would like to see you dance later," she says quietly, "to welcome our newest guest."

 

"Oh great, you caught another creature," Loki rolls his eyes as he rolls to face her, "do you enjoy watching us like this, reduced to helpless creatures dependent on your Master's whim?"

 

Loki is not quite certain from whence the venom in his voice comes, but he does not swallow it. Carina looks at him with pain in her eyes. For a brief moment, Loki regrets his words. But he is trapped, his powers have not returned, and he spends his time in a drugged haze. He knows it is merely a matter of moments before whatever wafts through the vent on the floor increases and saturates the air until Loki loses consciousness again.

 

"Master would like you to be ready in an hour," Carina says but Loki can tell she conceals her own pain. Whatever new creature Tevan has trapped, they are all prisoners here. It is then that Loki remembers his brother's words: _You could be so much more._

"I apologise," he says barely audible. "Neither of us deserves to be here."

 

If she hears him, Loki does not know. She does not react. Instead, she repeats her instructions and disappears. Loki sighs and sits up slowly. Well, time to be the dancing serpent. If he still had his powers, he could be an actual serpent. Though if his power restores, he knows staying contained in this cell would no longer be a concern to him and the serpent would devour Tevan. He has to admit, he is interested in whom the Collector will bring. And it does help that suddenly he is wanted once more, it strokes his vanity, something which has not happened in days. Truly not since Grandmaster has admired him. Tevan's admirations are too superficial, momentary. No, the Grandmaster had worshipped him when Tevan merely thinks of him as an idle exhibit in his collection.

 

"One day, I shall have revenge," Loki says quietly and yawns. He stretches and curls up again with no intention of getting ready.

 

There is no one who so direly needs Loki to perform for him. Even the Grandmaster no longer holds Loki's favour. That is not to say that Loki would turn down were he to come to his rescue having realised that Loki was not a possession to be lent to others. However, Loki does also know the likelihood of this occurring is so small, that he will be better off rescuing himself. But in order to rescue himself, he will have to get up and take note of his surroundings, he would have to think about how he could best escape. It is that which stands between him and freedom. An act as simple as standing up and Loki cannot bring himself to fight through the haze to do it. He is tired, too tired.

 

His eyes close again and he drifts off into sleep once more, immediately forgetting about the Collector's request and whom it would be he would dance for once he awoke again. And awake again he does, suddenly and with a lot of pain.

 

"I asked a simple thing of you," he hears Tevan's voice but the pain is so blinding, his vision is white. He can't focus or breathe. The breathing part is what gets him because he kind of needs that. It brings back visions, memories of a giant purple hand wrapped around his neck. Of Thanos's voice rumbling in his bones, the last thing he heard and saw before his apparent death. Someone screams and it takes Loki a few moments to realise that it is him. He pushes himself through the pain, feels the cool flow beneath his hands and finds his strength someone deep inside to push himself standing.

 

"Perhaps," he coughs and leans against the glass as if he has not a care in the world, "an amateur requires preparation, but I assure you," He flashes a bright smile, "I can perform without preparation and certainly without coercion of pain. You have to remember." With a wicked grin he leans forward toward Tevan. "Remember whose son I was. Pain is but a part of my existence now."

 

"Very well," Tevan looks bored and entirely unimpressed, but there is a tremble in his hand. He barely is holding his anger at bay. Good. Loki can and will work with that. "Do make it good, our new guest is not adjusting to his environment as well as I would like."

 

"Sure fine," Loki shrugs, "who is this new guest for whom I am supposed to dance to brighten his day or whatever."

 

"Anthony, darling, do pay attention," Tevan snaps and the glass on the cage across from Loki clears. And there stands, shirtless and barefoot, Tony Stark of Earth. Loki laughs, because of course.

 

"You're not a penguin," is the first thing Tony says and that sets Loki off further.

 

"Oh you are correct, Stark," his ribs hurt from laughing or perhaps from whatever Tevan is doing to him to get him to stop, but stop he cannot. This time he cannot breathe from laughter. "I most certainly am not a penguin."

 

"You're supposed to be dead."

 

"Yeah that appears to be the theme of my life, however," he gestures up and down himself, "very much alive. I see you've survived the culling as well."

 

Apparently Tevan doesn't like that one bit. Two of his exhibits conversing because Tony's cage goes grey first before Loki's does. There is a heavy hiss of something and Loki loses consciousness before he even hits the ground.

 

***

 

"I really don't need entertainment," Tony says with a sigh when he is awoken by Tevan's incessant knocking on the glass. If, now when, he gets out of here, he is going to smash that cane into pieces first before anything else.

 

"Oh but I insist," Tevan says and disappears for a while and when Tony's cell is clear again, he doesn't know what the fuck to say.

 

"You're not a penguin," comes out of his mouth and he wants to slap himself for that, because standing across from him, definitely mostly naked is Loki, brother of Thor. The dude who was supposed to be dead, the dude who Thanos had killed along with Thor. Only Thor had turned out to still be alive as well, so maybe this isn't as far-fetched as Tony thinks it is. And Loki must think it's hilarious because he looks like he's having a seizure laughing.

 

"Oh you are correct, Stark," the guy barely manages through his laughter and Tony doesn't know if he should start laughing, crying, or both? "I most certainly am not a penguin." Yeah maybe both is best.

 

"You're supposed to be dead," it's pretty much the most obvious thing he can say to Loki, but he is still trying to wrap his head around the fact that here, across the universe in the middle of nowhere and literally Knowhere, he is trapped in the same prison museum as Thor's little brother, the guy who had been part of months of night terrors, the guy whose invasion definitely caused Tony's PTSD, and yet here they are across from each other and Tony doesn't feel scared or much of anything at all.

 

"Yes, that appears to be the theme of my life, however, very much alive." Tony doesn't look Loki up and down because he's not ready to see what once was his enemy to be across from him, caged like he is, only wearing a significantly smaller amount of clothing. If chains and a tiny piece of gold cloth could be considered clothing. "I see you survived the culling as well." Loki smiles and that's when reality hits Tony.

 

The culling. Thanos. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, several in fact, and when he opens them again, Loki is gone. His cage has returned to opaque grey glass. Maybe Tevan isn't a fan of his captives knowing each other. He hears a hiss inside his cell and rolls his eyes. He knows what comes next and sits down to avoid hitting his head when he loses consciousness.

 

The last thought in his mind is that this bullshit has to stop. He loses consciousness because he has no other choice, whatever Tevan is pumping into his cell contains something that knocks him out almost immediately. Maybe it's because of Loki, because he has seen some kind of familiar face, he vows to himself that he is going to get out of this.

 

Hours later there is a gentle knock against his cell and when he looks up, he sees a small parachute has landed on his hand and already begins to disintegrate. He sits up, the glass is still opaque and he knows that Carina has sent him something to help before and sure enough, the knock repeats and he answers it in kind. Only a single knock follows. She knows he received it. He knows it is from her. The box falls apart between his fingers as soon as he picks it up leaving but a small note and... a maggot? _In_ _your_ _ear,_ the note says and Tony looks at the thing squirming in his hand and no, he's okay. Upon closer inspection, it looks like a tiny yellow fish had a love child with a worm of sorts. Enough to make every part of him revolt at the thought of putting it in his ear.          

 

"Sorry, kid," he whispers, "I'm gonna not go with that." He turns over the note. _Trust_. Ah fuck. Appealing to his most base of needs: wanting to trust someone. "Oh come on now, really?" He sighs because fuck, he shouldn't want to trust anyone, not after what Nebula had done and yet here he is. With a fish-worm in his hand. He looks up and sees Loki in the cell across staring at his hand as well. Carina is nowhere to be seen. Maybe it wasn’t her. Maybe Loki had done this. Maybe this is one of Loki’s more elaborate plans to entertain himself. After all, Tony’s heard a lot of stories. And Loki can be very convincing, he knows that much, too.

 

“That you?” Tony raises the hand with the worm and looks at Loki, but Loki isn’t looking over to him. He hits the glass once and Loki looks up at him, confused. “Did you do this?” Tony shouts but the glass shields all sound. Loki shrugs at him and gestures he can’t hear. The movement ripples through the chains which reflect the lights and shimmer around Loki’s body as if he’s wearing the light itself. It’s definitely distracting and if they’re going to get out of this place, definitely impractical. Tony is painfully aware that his own state isn’t particularly practical should they get out of this. The singlet lays bunched up against the glass, he is still barefoot. And still holding a worm fish in his hand.

 

This time Loki is the one who knocks on the glass. He shrugs and then he grins and Tony’s seen that grin. It never bodes well. And of course, _of course_ Loki puts the damn thing in his ear like he’s calling Tony out on a dare. And he is, isn’t he? Tony looks at his hand. A fish-worm in his palm to be put in his ear. _Trust_. Tony closes his eyes. Trust. He looks at the fish-worm and then at Loki who is leaning against the glass and looks at him like he’s waiting. Oh fuck it, Tony thinks and lets it slide into his ear. And that's when he realizes he's made a very, very big mistake.

 

The world spins, the vertigo is almost instant. He tries to brace himself against the glass but he's already laying on the floor. Or spinning in the middle of the room, it's hard to tell at this point. He wants to throw up but he doesn't think he can move enough to vomit. Maybe this is how he dies, choking on his own vomit with a fish-worm in his ear, trapped by a psychopath. Wouldn't be the worst way to go. And then, when he thinks he can no longer bear it, the vertigo stops. The world around him sounds oddly muffled and distant. But he can clearly hear a single voice.

 

"Welcome,” He hears Loki as if he is right in his ear. That's different.

 

"Yeah," he groans and closes his eyes again. “You’re gonna need to give me a minute. I- ugh,” Tony runs his hand over his face. He really doesn’t want to throw up right now.

 

"Ah yes, I see you finally have joined the club of putting strange worms into our ears because a parachute told us to."

 

"I mean, technically you hear," Tony smiles because he can't help himself and then immediately regrets it. “How are you not on the floor right now?”

 

"My physiology is superior to yours." There's a tightness in Loki's voice and somehow that makes it better. Knowing that practically a god is feeling as rough as he is, well, it isn’t a terrible part of his day. That combined with the fact that Loki is as trapped as he is, well, Tony is not above taking his victories in Schadenfreude. And when he opens his eyes, he sees Loki laying on his back before the glass becomes opaque again and severs their visual connection.

 

"Do we have to talk?" Tony thinks because it would get really suspicious real fast once they both started having conversations with themselves.

 

"It appears we do not," Loki says or thinks after a pause.

 

"Oh great," that's not exactly what he wants, to be connected to a megalomaniac interstellar warlord via their thoughts. Then again Loki isn’t the same person he was when they first met and neither is Tony. Tony isn’t what kind of person he is, but for the moment, he is the kind of person who is relieved he is connected to Loki with his thoughts. How desperate he must be to want to connect to Loki of all people.

 

"It is not my preference either," Loki drawls inside his brain, “but it appears we have made our choice. Let us hope it is for the time being and not permanently.”

 

“You could hear that?” Fuck. Tony feels somewhere between desperate hilarity and utter mortification. "How does this even work? We put a fucking fish worm into our ears. A fish worm!"

 

"Magic?" There is a chuckle that follows along with that thought.

 

"Oh yeah? Where's yours?" What follows is a long silence. Apparently, Tony's hit a nerve. He wants to feel elated but he doesn’t. "So, chances of you zapping us out of here are smaller than we'd like them to be." He thinks again, trying to get Loki to talk to him again.

 

"Yes." The response is cool and Loki leaves it at that, but Tony can hear hushed whispers of doubt and Loki definitely trying to reign in his thoughts. Tony doesn’t pry. He’s got enough wallowing on mistakes inside his own mind.

 

"Sorry buddy," he thinks and means it. He gets feeling helpless. It's how he feels without his suit. It's how he feels right now. "But hey, we both put a Babelfish into our ears."

 

"Unfortunately, neither of us has a towel." Loki responds without missing a beat and this time Tony finds himself in stunned silence.

 

"Was that a pop culture reference, Reindeer Games? I'm proud."

 

"I brushed up on Earth pop culture just in case I ever ran into you again."

 

"Seriously?"

 

"Of course not, I ran out of books whilst imprisoned for my crimes against your planet. Mother thought reading works from your planet would help be better understand what I had done.” There is a pause and a sigh. “I am surprised you are not panicked by my presence.”

 

"I hear that the whole thing wasn't exactly your idea," Tony remembers the stories Thor had told him about Loki and the mad Titan who held his brother under a wicked spell. Wicked spell, glow stick of destiny, same thing. “And I already faced my demons.” And under his breath he whispers “and lost.” He no longer has the energy to worry about Loki. He already lost everything, there isn’t anything Loki can possibly do to him now. And yeah, they’re both trapped here.

 

"Yeah well, you probably noticed by now that one does not exactly say no to Thanos," there is a sigh, still a raw subject then. Tony makes a note not to be a dick about it. After all, Loki had saved his people and tried to stop Thanos.

 

"Yeah, we met," Tony tries to suppress that particular encounter. "And obviously lost."

 

"At least he didn't kill you."

 

"Not sure if surviving was much better," he isn't even sure why he tells Loki this. Maybe because he hasn't talked to anyone in days, not since Nebula has betrayed him. And they’re both stuck in here.

 

"No wonder Carina put worms in our ears," Loki chuckles and it still freaks Tony out a bit that it feels like he's right there in the cell with him.

 

"Okay, not to interrupt the conversation but we need to get out of here. I don’t plan on being drugged into obedience until dude forgets to feed us. Has he fed us? Do you remember eating? I don’t.”

 

“Neither do I,” Loki admitted, it was a quiet admission, barely audible. “I do believe he uses the vent under the grid in my cell to release whatever he uses to drug me into the air.”

 

Tony rolls more than he actually gets up to where he remembers the vent to be in his own cell. He grabs the singlet on his way there and looked at it. There isn’t enough space to get his hand into it and the grid itself seemed to seamlessly attach to the floor. Well, Tony has improvised with worse. He tears a strip off the singlet and stares at the vent-drain thing. He can’t pull it out, but maybe he can plug it. He rolls up the fabric and stuffs it into one of the holes. Only way to find out whether or not this works is to go through with it. Of course, he wonders if Tevan is watching him right now, amused at his attempts. Or if Tevan is distracted by the next shiny thing. Judging by how quickly the guy moved on from Loki who Tony has to admit looks shiny definitely like he should be displayed.

 

“Hey Rudolph,” he thinks as he continues to plug the rest of the holes. There had to be some kind of emergency protocol if air flow became too restricted. “You ever see what happens when someone manages to clog the airflow to their cell?”

 

“They suffocated.” Loki responds, bemused. “Why have you managed to clog yours? I do believe the next step is to be stuffed and displayed like a hunting trophy. Do remind them to take the worm from your ear, I would hate to have to listen to you suffocate slowly.”

 

“Regretting that move already,” Tony sighs and pulls the fabric from the vent. “So how do we get out?”  


There is a long sigh from Loki before he answers. “I suppose we don’t.”

 

There is a hiss from the vent. Time to be drugged.

 

“I suppose we don’t.” Tony echoes and lies down to stare at the ceiling.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was a bit longer of a break than I had intended. Back to a regular weekly schedule.


	10. We Walk in the Valley of Darkness

 

The world melts when Loki opens his eyes again. The fake mountain, his chains, the cloth, his fingers. Everything melts until he becomes part of the grey surroundings. Until he himself becomes grey and melts into the ground. _“Tony?”_ is his first thought but there is no response. How could there be? Tony is mortal and his biology more susceptible to whatever it is Tevan pumps into their cell every day. He has a hard time remembering what has led him to this moment, likely also a side effect of the drug to make him compliant, to keep him calm and detached for the centuries to come. It works quite well, he thinks, because he has no intention of getting up to do anything about it. He barely lifts a glance when he hears an odd noise from above, a strange sort of whirring as if someone is trying to cut through the ceiling. What a preposterous thought. Of course no one is trying to cut through the ceiling to rescue him. The only people who care about Loki are either dead or-

 

"Grandmaster?" Loki says as he pushes himself sitting, adjusts his hair and his chains in an attempt to not look like he has been trapped in the same circumstance for weeks.

 

It is a futile attempt, but his will to admit that falters him. A light begins to glow as something cuts through the seamless ceiling. This is not a hallucination, this is real. Someone has come for him. Someone who loves him. The Grandmaster has realised how much Loki means to him. He stands too fast and braces against the glass while vertigo washes over him. It's all right. He will be okay. He will be safe. He is going home. A small detonation blasts a hole into the ceiling, just big enough for him to fit. This is his chance. Loki scrambles up the fake mountain with a smile.

 

"Hurry!" He hears a distorted voice and a gloved arm comes through the hole. He jumps without hesitation and grabs the arm which pulls him up with ease. He scrambles for purchase on the metal and pushes himself up onto the top of the cell. The Grandmaster appears strangely short and bald with violet and blue skin.

 

"You are not the Grandmaster." He concludes when a woman pulls the mask from her face and looks at him with black eyes. She blinks and then looks annoyed.

 

"And you are not Tony Stark," she frowns and looks like she's about to push Loki back into the cell.

 

"No, he's across the corridor." Loki narrows his eyes. "Why?"

 

"To rescue him, what are you? An idiot?" She rolls her eyes with a grunt and pushes past him. "Come on! Make yourself useful, show me where he is."

 

Loki pauses for a moment but his other option is to return to his cell and now that he is out of it, he is most certainly not going back. So, he nods and climbs down the back of the cell. And this is when he realises he is not exactly sure where he is. The drugs are still in his system, though he can feel his body fight them. The dimmed lights do not help him orient himself. It is too dark to make out much and he unceremoniously walks into a wall. There is a sigh behind him, but it is the woman not Tony in his ear.

 

"Do you even know where you are?" She turns Loki to face her and takes his face into her hands. The fact that his first thought is wondering if she will kiss him should answer any questions he has about still being drugged.

 

"Knowhere," he answers, "I was lent to Tevan."

 

"Yeah no one's here because they want to be," she hisses and looks around, "except maybe that duck. Wait here." She instructs and pushes Loki to sit on a stool beside a small table. And briefly, he thinks that's a great idea. Until he realises he is going to be left behind. He is most certainly not going to be left behind. He pushes himself off the stool and manages to follow her with enough grace that she doesn't immediately notice him. Loki glances around, all the pods are grey, even the cage in which the duck resides. He wonders if she has done that or if there is a time of night when everyone simply goes to sleep, even Tevan and Carina.

 

The woman climbs the cell with ease. Loki knows three movements in that he can't follow her that way. Thankfully, it only takes a few moments of stumbling around for Loki to locate a ladder. He has got this. If Stark is getting rescued, so is he. He will absolutely not be trapped here with Stark stuck in his ear for the foreseeable future. In fact, maybe he will be the one to rescue Stark. He can feel his mind clear as he climbs the ladder. The woman is already there, the mask back over her face as she cuts through the ceiling of Tony's cells. Considering Loki's current clothing situation, perhaps he will let her finish that part. He knows what follows and braces himself for the detonation. He listens for Stark but he can't hear him. Should he hear him by now? Surely a small explosion would have woken him? He turns to push the woman out of the way, but she must have noticed him. He wonders why and then realises he is bracing himself against a pillar. Perhaps he is not quite as stealthy as he thinks himself to be.

  

"He's still unconscious," she says with a frown and looks back into the hole. "I'm gonna grab him, don't be useless." With that, she jumps into the cell.

  

Loki kneels beside the hole and looks down at the woman. The cell has nothing in it but Stark and the torn singlet beside the vent. Stark is passed out right by the vent which is likely why he is still out of it. He's getting drugged straight from the source without any dispersal. The cell is tall enough to make it difficult to get back up, especially with a dead weight. Don't be useless, he reminds himself and moves so he feels as steady as he can possibly be. The woman looks up at him and nods.

 

"I'm going to throw him up to you," she narrows her eyes, "if you drop him, I will disembowel you."

 

Well, Loki had not thought of Stark to be dating someone like her, but love can fall into the strangest places. As long as it gets Loki out of this collection, he does not care. He watches her pick up Stark with one hand. She is surprisingly strong. Someone weaker definitely would not have been able to rescue either of them. She looks at Loki and he nods in response. He is as ready as he can be. She throws Tony like he weighs nothing. If Loki remembers correctly, he truly does not. Humans are so light in comparison to Asgardians, but at his tower, Stark seemed particularly small and light out of his armour. Only he most certainly is not right now. Loki catches him with one arm and immediately needs to grab him with his other arm to pull him all the way through the hole and onto the cell. Loki really needs to get his powers back. This is ridiculous. He can feel a few chains break as he pulls Stark away from the hole so the woman can jump out of it which she does just as easily as she has thrown Tony.

 

"Now let’s get out of here," she hisses as he pulls the mask back over her face. She pulls something from her pocket. Before Loki can react- reacting would mean dropping Stark-, she injects his neck.

 

"What the fuck?!" He hisses, angry. He's over being drugged against his will. And then he can feel the last of the drugged haze lift from him. Oh.

 

"Let's go, before Tevan wakes up!" She jumps off the cell leaving Loki to deal with Stark.

 

"What about him?" He whisper-hisses over the side of the cell.

 

"I'll catch him," she says and perhaps the most awkward thing Loki has ever done is try to lower Tony Stark from the side of a cell wearing nothing but chains and a small piece of cloth without his powers while a blue and violet woman stands at the bottom and throws him over her shoulder the moment she gets ahold of his legs. Loki really misses his strength. He knows she came for Tony and he is convinced that by the time he is on the ground, he will be on his own. But she is still there, Stark still over her shoulder.

 

"You okay with him?"

 

"Obviously." She hisses and Loki concludes she has two modes: angry or annoyed. Nothing else.

 

"Where is your ship?"

 

"Can't leave yet."

 

"What?!" Loki almost forgets to be quiet. "Are you mad?! If Tevan wakes, we will all be back inside cages for our foreseeable and very likely unforeseeable future as well."

 

"Yeah, and I know Tony wouldn't want us to leave everyone else behind."

 

Oh.

 

She must truly care for him if she knows his wishes so well. Though even Loki can see Stark thinking that. After all, his first offer had been to sit down and have a drink. And he had heard of his battles, Banner had told him about the attempts to protect Earth, albeit misguided attempts followed by what Thor described as a civil war, which seemed to be exaggerated, a dozen people quarreling hardly meant a war. On Asgard, that meant a good evening of fun. And Loki realises that without her, he is unlikely to get away from here.

  

"We cannot cut a hole into every cell and get whoever in it out," he says and she appears to agree.

 

"And cutting main power will trigger a lockdown," she says and nods for him to follow her. "Got any hidden powers that could be useful?"

 

"None that I care to share," Loki says, trying to sound nonchalant.

 

"Hold him," she dumps Stark in his arms. "I know someone who can help us." Before Loki can protest, she disappears.

 

"Any time you want to join the conscious, Stark," he says as he supports the limp form in his arms. However Tony does not seem particularly keen on joining them. "That's all right," Loki whispers. "She loves you, she won't abandon you." A twinge of jealousy coils in Loki's middle. Stark's lover had come to rescue him while the Grandmaster has left Loki to rot in his cell. He pulls Tony out of immediate sight when he hears footsteps approach again. There are not many options but at least with his head clear, Loki can still fight. And fight he will.

 

But fight he does not have to, it is the woman dragging something- someone- Carina behind her. The poor girl has been bound and gagged and the coil of jealousy immediately is replaced with a coil of worry for the girl. The woman is not gentle with her and Carina is shaking.

 

"You listen, you are going to help us access the main system and you will do it quietly or I am going to tear you apart limb by limb, understood?"

 

The answer is just a terrified sob. The girl is so terrified, she can barely catch her breath and when Loki notices a wet patch by her feet, he shoves Tony at the woman.

 

"You must be mad when you think an enslaved little girl is going to be of any use if you terrify her into having a stroke." He hisses and pushes her out of the way. She doesn't fight him mostly because she is too busy not letting Tony drop to the ground. Loki takes what opportunity he can get. He carefully steps around the puddle on the floor and guides Carina away from it. "She won't harm you," he says and glares at the woman, "I won't harm you, but she is right that we do need your help." He gently pulls the cloth that gags her away and rips the tape which binds her hands. "Will you help us, Carina?" He asks her as her breathing slowly returns to normal. Perhaps all the time he has spent taking care of Asgard, of his people has left a lasting impression because he feels responsible for her, feels the need to protect her even though his reign on Asgard feels so distant, barely a memory.

 

"I'm not Carina." She whispers. "He gives the name to us whenever our predecessor dies."

 

"What is your name?"

 

"Maral," she whispers so low that for a moment Loki think he may have imagined it.

 

"Well Maral," he says with a smile, "you helped me when I got here, if you help us again, we will take you with us if you like."

 

She nods and takes his hand. She isn't a child from what Loki can tell, but she is frightened like one. So he does not pull away his hand and instead follows her when she begins to pull him along. The woman follows, Tony still over her shoulder. They walk among the grey cells, the lights still dim. They walk up a set of stairs and into a sizeable room filled with many, many screens. Surveillance. Loki isn’t surprised, but it allows for an opportunity to familiarize himself with his surroundings. There are many levels in this place, but only three with cells and only this floor is fully populated. Looks like Tevan’s collection isn’t as extensive as he had boasted. Loki wants to laugh but settles for looking at the other screens. His head feels clearer. Beside him the woman accessed the computer system with an ease which tells him that she must have done this at least once before

 

The room itself is somewhat of a mess, pillows and trinkets everywhere, opened bottles and jars, some which appear to have turned into their own lifeforms now. Maral stands pressed into the wall beside the door looking to become part of it. Loki looks around to find something to replace her soiled clothes. He himself does not possess enough cloth to cover himself. It had been ridiculous to choose this particular garment. Though he supposes he cannot be blamed as he had certainly had a different activity in mind when he had dressed himself. Perhaps he should find some clothes for himself as well. He suspects there isn’t enough time, so he picks up one of the large cushions which make a pile in the corner, no doubt for a pet of Tevan’s to lie upon while Tevan inspected his collection. It takes a lot of strength to tear a whole into the bottom of the cushion to pull out the stuffing. Too much strength. Loki sighs.

 

“May I borrow a blade,” he says and when the woman simply looks at him, unimpressed, he adds, “please.”

 

“Once she is changed I need her help,” the woman growls as her focus is back on the screen but her hand holds out a small knife. “I figured out the venting system but I have no idea what is what and I’d rather not put everyone into a coma.”

 

“Stark appears to be ahead of you,” Loki says looking at Tony still passed out in the chair. He quickly cuts a few holes into the pillow and pulls out the stuffing, tossing it carelessly to the floor. “All right,” he quietly says to Maral, “change into this. It may not be much, but it is better than staying in soiled clothes.” Loki certainly wishes the pillows to be larger so he could no longer wear these chains which had long begun to chafe and leave red marks. Maral takes the pillow casing and ducks down behind a chair. Loki turns his back and looks at Tony who stirs and groans. The woman keeps glancing back at him with worry. There is an odd pang in Loki’s chest when he thinks about that. It’s pathetic how he still clamors for love and acceptance when the man he thought would give that to him clearly never had any intention of-

 

“Why did you connect Stark and I?” Loki looks at Maral when she joins his side now wearing a red and gold embroidered pillow case like a really fancy sack.

 

“The lady told me to,” Maral whispers, “she said you would free me… and that it would be fun.”

 

“Her?” Loki shrugs. It doesn’t make a lot of sense but what here truly does. He doesn’t notice Maral shaking her head no because in that moment Tony begins to regain consciousness.

 

“Anybody get the number of that truck,” Tony groans as he runs a hand over his face.

 

“Welcome back to the living,” the woman says before Loki can say anything and Tony freezes.

 

“What the fuck is this?” He hisses and gets up. “Is this another one of your games?”

 

There is tension, Loki instinctively moves Maral behind him just in case. He doesn’t know what exactly happened between them, but judging by how Tony looks for the exit and tenses.

 

"Had to sell it," the woman says without looking up at Tony, but her shoulders are tense as well. That could become problematic. Loki can feel Maral's hands clutch his arm.

  

"Wait," Tony paces, the irritation and barely subdued anger radiates from him. "Wait, you faked all of this, for what?"

 

 "Had to make sure the map was legit."

 

The noise Tony makes is somewhere between a laugh, a scream, and a sob. Loki feels a bit like spectator of a battle of which he wants no part. And neither does Maral who is back to being terrified. Even Loki knows this is unproductive and he usually is not the one to deny himself a bit of drama. However without his powers, he cannot intervene without putting himself in harm's way and he certainly is not about to do that. This is not about him or Maral. Perhaps his time is better spent finding a ship and at least making sure Maral escapes and help her return to her people.

 

 "So that's what this is? You sold me out, took the map, it wasn't legit and now you're back pretending nothing ever happened?" Tony's voice breaks as he talks and paces and gestures. 

 

"No you idiot," the woman hisses, "I pretended to sell you out so Tevan would trust me, give me the map, allow me to come back here, free you and everyone else."

  

"Do you even hear yourself?" Tony doesn't even seem to be aware of Loki or Maral. "That doesn't make sense! We could have gotten the map together, that's why I came after you! I was trying to help you and you betrayed me!"

 

"I did not betray you!" The woman gets up from her chair, every part of her tensed. "There was no other way!"

 

That triggers something in both of them and they begin to scream back and forth and after a while, Loki is uncertain what the argument is about. While Loki does not have his powers, he does still know when it is best to make a strategic exit. A lover's quarrel is one of those times. Gently, he pushes backwards to usher Maral toward the door without rousing their attention.

 

 

"Master Tevan keeps the map in a vault only he can access," Maral says so quiet only Loki can hear.

 

 

"Say that again?" Loki turns around and bends over to hear her better over the screeching argument.

 

 

"Master Tevan keeps his most prized possessions in a vault only he can access." She says quietly. "The map is his most prized possession."

 

“Why-, no that doesn’t matter right now,” Loki glances back at Tony and the woman still fighting. “Only Tevan has access?”

 

“Only Tevan, no one else.” She nods. Loki believes her. If anything Maral knows more about this place than any of them. She is still scared, but she is calm. And they need to get out of here sooner rather than later.

 

“All right, thank you, maybe that will get them to stop fighting,” Loki nods and turns around and slams his hand on the desk. “Hey!”

 

“What?!” They both snap around, their faces suddenly more annoyed with Loki’s interruption than each other.

 

“Wonderful,” Loki smiles and stretches and pulls Maral in front of him, “now that I have your attention, please shut up and listen to what our friend Maral has to say about the map.” He puts his hands on her shoulders to assure her. “Please Maral, tell them what you just told me.”

 

“Only Tevan had access to the map,” she says quietly, but loud enough for them to hear. “Without him, you would not be able to access it.”

 

Tony stares at her for a moment, then glances at Loki.

 

_“She didn’t betray you, Stark.”_ Loki thinks and Tony startles. _“Already forgotten me? I’m hurt.”_

_“Haven’t forgotten, just hoped it had been a dream.”_

_“Yeah well you and me both.”_

“Why are you just standing there like idiots staring at each other?” The woman growls and looks between them. Ah yes, angry or annoyed.

 

“It was your idea,” Loki says with an eye roll.

 

“What was my idea?” The woman looks at Tony. “What is he talking about?”

 

“It wasn’t her,” Maral says quietly. “But you are free now, I can remove it.”

 

“We put a fish in our ears and it connected our brains,” Tony sighs and runs a hand over his face.

 

“We need to get back to the Benatar,” is all the woman grinds out before returning to the screen. “But first we need to get everyone out. Maral, help me.” And when Maral hesitantly walks over to her, she quietly adds: “I’m sorry I scared you.”

 

There is a long silence. And in Loki’s mind it is most certainly uncomfortable. Judging by how Tony paces, he thinks the same. Only Loki does not have to judge by how Tony paces. He looks at him and raises his eyebrow. It’s easy to hear Tony the moment he focuses on him. And it is quite overwhelming, the man has an incredible amount of thoughts for someone whose brain has limited synaptic capabilities. It is rather impressive, at least it is for the first thirty seconds. After that it becomes a constant noise inside Loki’s mind, a noise which slowly builds up to a crescendo while Tony picks at his cuticles. He doesn’t even notice Loki can hear him nor does he notice Loki’s thoughts. So much guilt and anxiety, Loki almost feels pity for the man.

 

“Nebula-,” he starts. So that is the woman’s name.

 

“We can get them out,” Nebula cuts him off. “All of them, well except for the duck. He wants to be here.”

 

“They won’t fit on the ship,” Tony looks crestfallen, but Maral smiles at him.

 

“There is more than one ship,” she smiles brightly at them. Well, that certainly is promising.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. I Will Fear no Evil

“Yes, yes-,” Tivan leans against the doorway and looks at his nails, his cane in one hand, a tablet in the other. Maral freezes and her smile falls from her face, “-and I believe they’re all mine.”

 

Of course, Tony groans internally, he hasn’t even been awake for five minutes yet. He still hasn’t worked through everything yet and of course they’re found out before they can escape. However, Tivan is just one guy. There’s four of them, and Nebula is a trained assassin. Might as well get started on the whole fight thing. After all, he stood up to Thanos with failing armour. So, he stumbles forward, ready to punch Tevan in his smug face, but he doesn’t make it more than three steps when Loki grabs him.

 

“Don’t be an idiot, Stark,” he hisses and in his mind Tony can hear _“I’ve seen him kill someone with a single motion of his hand, we don’t know what powers he has.”_

 

“Yes, listen to your pretty friend,” Tivan smiles and waves at Maral, “Carina, my girl, I am very disappointed in you, but if you come here, I am willing to forget what you have done.”

 

“Her name is Maral,” Loki growls and stands in front of both Tony and Maral. Tony doesn’t know what to make of that but Bruce had said that Loki had changed. Looks like he hadn’t exaggerated. Briefly, Tony wonders if Bruce is still alive or if he is dust like the others.

 

“Is it? You didn’t seem to care when you shouted at the poor girl.” Tivan says with a calm arrogance that makes Tony want to disregard everything he heard from Loki and punch the guy in his smug face. “Now, I believe we had an arrangement, Nebula, you bring me my engineer and I give you the map to your sister’s rotting body.”

 

A sword hits the wall beside Tivan’s head. Nebula stands beside her chair, the other sword in hand. Her face is an angry scowl, but Tony can see the hurt in her eyes. He’s spent enough time with her to know that her sister’s death had broken her to the core and like Tony she is held together by a thread. But Tony can’t leave here without freeing the rest. He can’t leave Maral and everyone else to suffer Tivan’s ‘care’. No one deserves to be held captive in a cage, not after what happened to the universe. Not after all that which has been lost. The universe can’t afford to lose more people and Tony can’t help but feel responsible.

 

“We’re leaving, Tivan,” he says stepping out from behind Loki. “Maral, Loki, Nebula, me, and anyone who wants to leave and you won’t stop us.”

 

If what Loki observed is the truth, there is a chance that Tivan’s powers are not powers at all. It could be a fail-safe built into the cells, it could be something akin to the obedience discs which Bruce had described. If Tivan truly has those powers, he could have used them to deflect the blade or even to attack them now, but he isn’t. He’s standing in the door pretending like he doesn’t care but Tony knows that look. He’s put it on so many times before to project more than he is. They don’t have to fight their way out of this. He's Tony Stark.

  

"Okay, look buddy," he says and looks at Tivan. "Let's face the facts here: if you had any kind of thing to stand on here, you wouldn't be here standing around clutching your tablet and cane. You'll get what? A couple of swings? You might knock me out, maybe even Loki, he seems to have lost some of his juice ‘cause if he hadn't, you wouldn't be standing anymore. And if Nebula had wanted to kill you, that sword wouldn't have missed and if you has some kind of secret powers here, you would have retaliated by now." He can feel Loki and Nebula frown behind him, but he can't stop to acknowledge them right now. "Look I get it, you had a thing going and as ethically shady as that thing was, it was your thing until Thanos came along and ruined everything and I gotta tell ya, it's not gonna go back to what it was. So, we're gonna go and whoever wants to leave is gonna come with us and that's just how it's going to be, okay buddy?"

 

He waits for the protests behind him. Nebula and Loki have both already inhaled for it, but then Tivan nods, looking incredibly defeated. He moves his fingers over his tablet and Tony can hear a bunch of mechanisms release. He doesn't take his eyes off Tivan.

 

"You are right, my engineer," Tivan says, his mouth twitching. "It will never be as it was. I shall take my leave to see my brother." He looks at Loki and extends his hand. "I am sure he would love to see you again."

 

Tony doesn't follow the conversation but he does see Loki step forward. Well, that was a quick encounter, he thinks with a sigh. He isn't exactly sure why he's sad to see Loki go but he forgets that he still has the fish worm in his ear. He forgets that Loki can hear him when he thinks: _don't_ _go_. And Loki, Loki pauses and glances back at them before he turns to Tivan with a big smile.

 

"Tell your brother," he rips the chains off his chest and tosses them at Tivan, "he can go fuck himself."

 

"Are you sure?" Tivan looks at the chains on the floor. "I am certain he would prefer that if you were involved, pet."

 

"Here I thought I was your favourite," Tony interjects and maybe they need to find Loki some clothes because the rest of the chains and loin cloth fall to the floor leaving him so very naked.

 

"I'll be fine," Loki doesn't hesitate before he turns around and waves Tivan off.

 

"Very well," Tivan says with an almost hysterical laugh, "good luck."

 

And then, he disappears.

 

"Did that feel too easy?" Tony turns around to look at Nebula. "Cause I'm not saying I'm not good but that felt too easy."

 

"Yeah," Nebula says as she looks at the screens, "maybe we should have checked exactly what else he had in his collection."

 

"You mean you didn't?" Tony and Loki join her at the computers while Maral still looks terrified at the door as if she's waiting for Tivan to return.

 

"Turns out," Nebula pulls up a screen, "upstairs was also part of his collection."

 

The screen shows three large empty rooms. The doors torn down as if the occupants couldn't be bothered to open the door and went right through it.

 

"Hey Nebs," Tony says and glances back at the door, "what was in those rooms." There's a sinking feeling in his guts and he isn't sure he actually wants to know.

 

"Maral," Loki says quietly, "perhaps it's better if you come a little closer." He extends his hand to her and she takes it, scurrying close to him as there is a noise outside.

 

"Close the door," Tony says with urgency, his eyes trained on the screen. Loki doesn't ask why, he just moves and closes the door. That will buy them a bit of time. He isn't sure how much because in those rooms were three rather large creatures with a whole lot of legs and too many tentacles. Way too many tentacles. They need to find Loki some clothes.

 

"Seriously Stark? I need you to stop thinking about that." Loki stands too close beside him still holding Maral's hand. "While you are correct that my talents have been temporarily been... disabled, I am no maiden in distress."

 

"I didn't- how could you even, I can't see your every thought why can you see mine?" Tony may be defensive and maybe just maybe there's some blood rushing to his cheeks.

 

"I can remove them now," Maral says softly, "before the monsters get us."

 

"We don't have time for that right now," Nebula says as she gets up from the chair and pulls her sword from the wall. "We need to get the hell out of here." From the pack on her back she pulls a shirt and tosses it at Tony. "Your suit."

 

"Okay, I can work with that," he pulls the shirt over his head but before he enables the suit he looks at Loki, still naked. "All right, you don't want me to keep picturing it, here take my pants." He says as he steps out of his slacks and tosses them at Loki. "Seriously, that'll do us both a favour, because,” he gestures at Loki, “that’s distracting.”

 

"Think about what?" Nebula asks but Tony shakes his head. She doesn't want to know.

 

"Why thank you, Stark," Loki raises an eyebrow and chuckles as he puts on the pants. They're too short and look more like super awkward capris than anything but they fit otherwise.

 

"We need to get back to the ship," she pulls up other screens. "And before you say anything everyone else has started to move toward those ships."

 

Tony doesn't ask what their chances are to get out, because with hose things on the loose probably not great. But he has his suit now and he activates it, feeling the familiar security as he is encased. Finally.

 

"Sunday," he says the moment a communications link is established, "get your ass over here. Where the hell were you? You were supposed to save my ass."

 

"Sorry," Sunday says, "I was otherwise occupied."

 

"Of course you were, what's your ETA?"

 

"Seven minutes."

 

"Make it five." He turns to look at the others. "The Benatar is five minutes out. Rendezvous point is two floors down. I'll try and keep the tentacle beasts occupied. Meet you there."

 

And without another word, he opens the door and jumps off the stairs.

 

“Well,” Loki looks at Maral and Nebula, “you heard the man, let’s get the hell off this… whatever this is.” And with that he turns toward the door only for a large piece of debris to blow past the opening. “On second thought, let’s try the other door, shall we?”

 

“What other exit?” Nebula looks at him like he’s lost his mind. There are no other doors, at least not obvious ones.

 

“Tivan is a coward, you saw him just vanish at the slightest threat from us,” Loki began moving chairs and running his fingers along the wall. “If he is that afraid of Stark, I can guarantee there is another exit, one that won’t put us directly into what seems to have become a battle field.”

 

On cue, Tony in his armour bursts backwards through the wall and bounces off the floor.

 

“What are you standing around for? Get the hell out!” He shouts firing energy bursts at an unseen threat. Well, unseen from their vantage point. Tony can see them just fine and Loki thinks that it’s about time they remove the fish worms because he can live without those mental images. But they’re only superficial fears. He can sense something deeper, something Tony has been hiding away, a deep seeded terror-

 

“Take Maral,” Nebula all but shoves her at Loki and pulls the swords from their sheaths, “Stark needs back up.”

 

“Oh but he looks perfectly fine,” Loki says as Tony is grabbed by a tentacle and flung out of their sight with a scream. “On second thought he might. Maral with me.” The secret door ends up hidden beneath the pile of pillows and while it doesn’t look that bad on first glance, the general filth strewn across the room has collected near the bottom of the pillows where what started as a syrupy mess seems to have taken on a life of its own the deeper Loki digs through the pillows.

 

“This place is disgusting,” Loki says and makes a face when he pulls open a sticky and moldy trap door. Why does he always end up in such disgusting places? Below, it isn’t much better, the first few rungs of the steps are filthy. The trousers Tony has given him are not particularly comfortable, but it is better than running about naked. “I’ll go first in case there’s anything down there, pull the door shut when you follow.”

 

Without hesitation, Loki begins to climb down, trusting that Maral will follow and she does. He can hear her shut the door with a soft “ew” and that makes him chuckle. When he steps down onto the floor, the lights in the corridor turn on one by one until it is brightly lit. It is surprisingly clean, well-lit, and filled with fresh air. Unlike the rest of Knowhere, it is entirely lined with metal. It looks new, very new. He turns around to check on Maral who is wiping her hands on the pillow case.

 

"I did not know this place existed," she says and looks around with wonder. That’s not particularly helpful but won’t matter if they can get to the ship before they get eaten or whatever Tony is trying not to imagine.

 

"Let's hope it leads somewhere safe," Loki says, "Stay behind me."

 

"You have no powers, why do you protect me?" She asks not moving from where she stands.

 

"Now?" Loki sighs and looks down the corridor. There are noises of a fight in the distance but he cannot tell if they are in his head or noises he can actually hear. "Look, we literally have three and a half minutes to get to safety and you trusted me before. Why this change of heart?"

 

"I'm scared," she says and Loki narrows his eyes. Something seemed off to him but if asked he would not be able to turn that feeling into words.

 

"Me too," he lies or does he? Perhaps it is not as far from the truth as he would like himself to believe. After all, he does not have powers anymore which means he may very well die in Tony Stark's trousers. "But Tony doesn't have powers either and he threw himself right into battle."

 

"He has a suit," Maral says but she finally begins to walk.

 

"And an overinflated ego fuelled by alcohol, yeah I have met him before." Loki rolls his eyes. "Ready to get out of here?"

 

Maral, to Loki's relief, nods and together they briskly walk along the corridor. Every so often both glance behind but the corridor does remain empty. A good sign in Loki's eyes, but what worries him more is that the sounds of battle come closer as they move. They are only one floor down and they need to get to the next one. They reach a door but Loki cannot tell where it leads or what is behind it. When he touches the mechanism to open the door, it blares at him and turns red.

 

"I know Master's pass codes," Maral says quietly and trails her fingers over the pad in patterns which don't make sense to Loki. Whether or not he can discern a pattern does not matter because the door opens.

 

Loki almost loses balance as he steps forward and forces himself to immediately stop because there is nothing beneath his feet. The door opens to nothing but the air and a drop so far that Loki is uncertain he would survive if he were still with his powers. There is nowhere to go. The nearest anything is too far to jump or climb. The corridor had been deceptive and ever so slightly inclined. They are nowhere near where they are supposed to be.

 

"Why the hell does someone build a corridor into nothing?" He mutters to himself and inspects the edges. They could climb but without room for error and no obvious ledges or places to hold on to, it does not look like that's going to be an option. "We have to turn back." He says. "Perhaps there is-"

 

Before Loki can finish his sentence a tentacle wraps around his waist and throws him into the air. He can’t scream, the force of it knocked the air out of his lungs and before he can get his bearings, he is caught and thrown again. There is no time to respond to anything. Before he can right himself, he slams against something and the world turns into stars and cotton. He can see the shadow of the creature approach and then he is flung in the air again. It is toying with me, Loki thinks at the edge of consciousness.

 

Tony can hear it clearly in his mind. Or maybe it’s more like knowing exactly what he needs to do in the moment. Nebula is on her way to the ship, Maral running beside her, but Tony feels it in his very bones. Help. He turns around and sighs. The creature he thought he had sealed into storage container near the bottom of this place must have escaped and now was doing its best cat impression playing with Loki like he’s a dying mouse.

 

“Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to play with your dinner?” He swoops in and catches Loki mid-fall and banks hard. He drops all the flares the suit has left for the time being and dips down underneath the flailing tentacles toward where the ship is. “Got you buddy,” he says quietly. Not that Loki can hear, he’s limp enough that he has Sunday scan him for a pulse which is there. Behind them, the beast screeches and succumbs to its injuries.

 

The moment he steps foot in the ship, Nebula takes off toward the Ravager station. At least that’s where Tony hopes she’s going. He isn’t sure how Loki’s injuries will pan out and Maral needs to be reunited with people she knows. He keeps the suit on until he has carried Loki into the make-shift infirmary which they had created out of a rec room. After the end of everything, there is very little use for table tennis and an onboard gym.

 

“Sunday, check for internal injuries, broken bones, the like,” he says after Loki is on the diagnostic table. Maral sits on a stool in the corner, strapped in and Tony wonders if Nebula put her there.

 

“I can remove what connects you,” she says quietly, “it will be easier now that he is asleep.”

 

Tony wants to point out that Loki is definitely not taking a nap, but has been knocked unconscious by a tentacle monster. The connection was what alerted Tony to the danger that Loki was in and he hesitates for a moment. It is too personal, too close. They had consented to this only out of desperation to get out of their imprisonment. This can easily be replaced with a less intrusive ear piece. So he nods and Maral hesitates a moment before she unstraps herself.

 

“Should be smooth sailing until the jump point,” Tony assures her and watches the read out of Loki’s diagnostic and what he sees so far isn’t great.

 

“Do you have a neurofrequency stimulator or a sonic tool?”

 

Tony has a sonic tool which will do and he reprograms it to emit the frequency beam that Maral needs it to be. Getting there isn’t particularly easy. He can’t hear anything but Maral appears to be able to listen to frequencies well beyond the scope of human hearing. To his credit, she only flinches twice before he gets it right. When she takes the tool in hand, she looks all business before she shoves the narrow bit unceremoniously into Tony’s ear. He nearly throws up when the world spins upside down but he holds still. Last thing he needs is to die with a sonic tool stuck in his brain. And then, just as quickly, it is over and she removes the tool and something oozes out of Tony’s ear.

 

“That’s disgusting,” he says but he doesn’t look when Maral wipes away whatever that was. There are things he doesn’t need to know which is why he doesn’t look when Maral does the same to Loki.

 

“Tony, I have the complete results,” Sunday says and Tony looks at the display of the diagnostic bed. It starts with multiple cracked and broken bones, moves on to numerous contusions and lacerations, a dislocated hip, torn what is apparently the Asgardian equivalent to the human spleen, and soft tissue damage to the muscles and tendons in his neck.

 

“Fuck,” Tony runs a hand over his face. Asgardians are supposed to nigh indestructible and this well, Loki’s pretty fucking destroyed. “Is he compatible with the regeneration device?”

 

“Yes, Tony,” Sunday says, “but we are less than five minutes from the jump point. I would advise against use of the regeneration device until after the jump is completed.”

 

"Fair point, Maral help me strap him in,” he pushes a few buttons on the device, “Sunday, keep him sedated, last thing we need is him waking up during the jump.”

 

They make it through the jump all right and when Tony realises they are stopping at the Ravager station, he feels relieved. Loki wakes up when they arrive and since he’s mostly healed by then. Maral has been helping Tony. It concerns him that she is still incredibly set to serve but he supposes that it would be hard to break through that in a manner of hours.

 

“Thank you,” Loki says as he slowly sits up, “for removing that worm thing from us, but it would be great if you could restore my powers now.” He smiles and Tony thinks he can detect some nerves. The guy had a pretty solid run in with his mortality, he doesn’t exactly blame him for those.

 

“Nebula injected you with the antidote to the gas,” Maral says quietly and stares at her feet, “your powers should have returned by now. Sometimes, the effect… is permanent.”

 

“Oh,” Loki says as he sits back down and stares at a bulk head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> busy and fairly stressful time right now, but I'll keep editing and uploading every two weeks at minimum.


	12. Oh, Son of the Morning, How You Are Cut Down to the Ground

  

Loki sits in silence. Nothing could possibly describe the overwhelming void he feels consume his insides. His powers are gone. He is but a mortal now, no more than Tony Stark. Perhaps even less for he cannot pull himself out of the fear he feels. He died before; he had faked his own death; he had stared mortality into the eye; and had laughed because he knew he was destined to be more. And now, he is nothing but a bag of flesh and bones, destined to violently die or waste away slowly. The connection with Tony is severed, their thoughts no longer connected, so he cannot silently ask the question on which his mind begins to focus. How? How does one live like this? How does one conquer the never-ending fear? How does one ignore the constant reminders of mortality? He looks at Tony but can’t say the words. He cannot bring himself to say it out loud for then it will forever be known as true.

 

Tony looks back at Loki and Loki finds himself unable to read Tony’s face. What do I do, he wants to ask but still he cannot find the words. Maybe they shouldn’t have removed those ridiculous worms. Tony turns away and the ball in Loki’s chest tightens. He can hear Tony pull the stopper off a bottle and pour two glasses. He hopes one is for him. He silently prays one is for him. Tony does not close the bottle again but turns around and extends his arm, the murky purple brown liquid glistens in the overhead lights.

 

“Here,” Tony says quietly. There is no triumph in his voice. “I think you might need this to take the edge off.”

 

Loki lifts the glass and it feels like he watches himself from afar, detached like he is a stranger to his own body. The drink assaults his nose first, sharp and pungent. It is nothing like the honeyed ales of Asgard which seduced the senses before one ever took a sip. But Asgard is gone and so are her people. He takes a sip of the drink and the assault spreads to his tongue. The muscles in his face contract involuntarily as he recoils.

 

“Yeah that’ll put hair on your chest,” Tony chuckles and to Loki’s surprise sits down beside him. “Look, I get it. Don’t need to be in your head to see this is your own private version of hell.”

 

Loki wants to protest, to tell Tony he does not require platitudes but Tony doesn’t say anything else. He sits beside Loki in silence and simply refills their drinks as soon as Loki drains the glass. After the second refill, the drink no longer tastes vile. After the third, Loki believes he might almost like the taste. After the fifth, Loki feels tired.

 

“Thank you, Anthony of Stark,” he says as he gets up. The world does not quite cooperate. “Anthony, I believe the artificial gravity generators are malfunctioning.” Loki is utterly insulted when Tony laughs. The man should investigate the malfunction and not have himself a moment of amusement. This is not a ship or mirth, it is a ship of desolation and sombre brooding. It is then that Loki realises he has said all these things out loud.

 

“Okay, you are shitfaced.” Tony somehow manages to dial down the laughter to an amused chuckle. Loki can live with that. “Let’s get you to bed.”

 

“I don’t have a bed,” Loki laments and stares wistfully at a coolant pipe, “I have nowhere I belong.”

 

“You know,” Tony says as he throws Loki’s arm over his shoulder to support him, “I pegged you more as a philosophical drunk, but I think you shot straight past that into weepy drunk. No judgement, just I think you need to lie down.”

 

“I shouldn’t be alive,” Loki whispers and stops dead, suddenly fascinated by the door.

 

“I know,” Tony says quietly, but Loki is too absorbed in his intoxication to inquire further about his tone, “but you are and that means something.”

 

How Loki ends up on the bed or whose bed it is, he does not know. All he knows that laying down feels like the exact right thing to do.

 

“Thank you,” he murmurs as Tony places a blanket on him. Any other words fall with him into the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

 

***

 

“How are you still standing?” Nebula asks when Tony joins her in the cockpit.

 

“Stopped drinking after glass number two.” Tony says and sits down beside her. He might be an alcoholic but he isn’t stupid. “He’s gonna feel like shit in the morning, but that’ll distract him from his own mortality.”

 

“You should sleep, too,” Nebula says and looks at Tony, “we leave as soon as Maral’s people arrive tomorrow. I hope that’s early.”

 

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna sleep on the station,” he says and looks at the airlock, “Loki’s passed out in my bunk.”

 

"Sunday monitoring his vital signs or are we waking up to him drowned in his own vomit?"

 

"Sunday is monitoring his vital signs." Tony says with a nod. "You get some rest, too."

 

"Studying the map. Don't want any surprises." And Tony gets that, he really does. Nebula is grieving still and this will be her moment of closure. She will find her sister's body and whatever happens after, well, Tony is going to stick around for that as well. "The last ship that escaped from Knowhere just checked in. The duck is annoyed but it looks like at least 60 percent made it out of the collection. That's a better survival rate than the end of the world."

 

"That's good news," Tony doesn't believe it's good enough, but it's not like he has any choice in the matter. He will let Aleta and Stakar know, maybe they can check for survivors. After all, there are still some resources there. "Be good," he smiles and squeezes her shoulder. He's forgiven her for the shit she's pulled. They're okay now. They have the map. The collection is destroyed. "I'm gonna head out."

 

"Try and get some actual sleep," Nebula says without turning around to look at him, but he can hear her smirk.

 

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He chuckles and walks through the air lock into the station.

 

It takes just a few minutes of walking before he is flanked by Aleta, fully dressed in armour and with that looks like blood stains on her clothes and cheek. He smiles and nods at her.

 

"You look like the other guy looks worse," he says as they keep walking.

 

"And you look like someone who picked a fight with an Ancient One and didn't lose."

 

"We won."

 

"You don't win against an Ancient One," she says and ushers Tony into a room.

 

"That's not my room," Tony says when he finds himself in what looks a bit like a board room and a bit like a torture chamber.

 

“Debriefing.” Aleta pushes him into a chair. There isn’t anything tender or kind about the gesture. It’s business. Whatever is between them, she definitely has put aside.

 

"Can't that wait until the morning?" Nebula's words ring in his head and if he's honest, he actually wants a good night's sleep. If there aren’t any pleasantries in the near future, he’s rather just sleep.

 

"Not if Loki Odinson is on your ship." She says and sits down on the table. "He's a threat to my station. We are not equipped to deal with the whims of a trickster god."

  

"He's passed out in my bunk right now," Tony smiles brightly at her, "don't think that he'll be an issue." It's none of her business that Loki doesn't have his powers. Only Tony, Nebula, and Maral know and he has no plans to change that.

 

"Am I hearing you vouch for him?" Aleta raises an eyebrow. It's not what Tony meant, but she isn’t asking because he offered. She’s asking if he’s willing to vouch for Loki.

 

"Yeah," he says because Loki doesn't have his powers, but also because Bruce has told him about what Loki did on Asgard, how he had saved his people. How he had faced Thanos in a desperate bid to save his brother. He mentally skipped the part wherein Loki taking the Tesseract of Asgard had been part of the issue, but he isn't convinced that the stone would have been truly destroyed. They seemed pretty indestructible to him and Thanos would have likely just plucked it from the rubble. 

 

"Then it is settled," Aleta says and runs her fingers through Tony's hair. "He is welcome on this station but if anything should happen, it will not be him who faces the consequences." 

 

"You vouched for me back in the day," he leans into the touch because it's nice, comforting but he's really quite tired.

  

"I did," she nods and pats his head, "but you are much less of a threat than you think yourself to be. You are free to go to bed. We will call you when Maral's people arrive."

  

"Thank you," he says and gets up to walk to his room. Technically, it's not his room, it's just a room, but he always ends up in it when he's here. One day, he'll ask if they keep it clear for him. Not today though. Today he falls into bed with a sigh and closes his eyes. He should get up to change. He should brush his teeth. But all he does is fall asleep just moments after his head hits the pillow. Nebula would be proud.

 

When Tony wakes, he finds himself tangled in his sheet, cold, and oddly hurt that he isn't waking up with a warm body wrapped around him. Then again, he is the one who had been invited to share their bed. He knows it isn't going to be permanent, but he would have liked it to be a little closer a little longer. He sighs and slowly sits up. Every muscle in his body hurts. He sighs and looks at the ceiling for a moment. He needs coffee or rather what passes as coffee in this part of the universe. And a shower. And fresh clothes. He suddenly isn't sure why he chose to sleep on the station. Maybe he had been hoping for something more than a gentle hand in his hair. Maybe he just needed to be close to someone last night. Maybe he should have gotten drunk at the bar and found someone to take to bed.

 

With a groan, he stands and looks around the room. It's still empty. It's still not his bunk on the Benatar. Coffee, the thinks to himself and leaves the room. The corridors are still empty, it must be pretty early for that. He should have checked the time.

Slowly, he makes his way to the bar. Last night's buzz has worn off and he doesn't want a repeat of what happened to him in the cell. Low levels of alcohol at all times. Sure he won't make it to sixty or fifty. How close is he to fifty now?

 

"Shit," he mumbles. Maybe he should try to make it past sixty. "I'm too old for this."

 

 He finds himself a hot cup of what passes as coffee and does even more so after he pours a good gulp of Xandarian brandy into it. It's hot and hits the spot as it should. The mess hall is empty except for a pair of exhausted looking Ravagers eating rations. And to his surprise, Nebula, also nursing a drink though it is unlikely to contain any alcohol.

 

"You're up early," he says as he sits down. He can't quite suppress the hiss of pain in his ribs. Maybe he should have checked in with triage before he went to be. Lot of maybes in his life recently. Too many in his opinion.

 

"So are you," she says without looking at him, “and you're injured."

 

"In my defense, I didn’t notice until I got up this morning."

 

"Good," she says and now turns her head to look at him. "Because I would have to kill you for lying to me."

 

"Still," he clinks his metal mug against hers, "thank you for saving my ass. How are our guests?"

 

"Loki is throwing up and Maral is fast asleep still. I left her a note," she snorts and takes another drink, "don't think Loki will recover before we get back."

 

"You know, when I first met him he was practically a god. Powers that gave me nightmares for years, threw me out of a window. I should be terrified of him."

 

"Yet you pity him."

 

"He's been through hell and now he's like you and me, well like me, he's not even close to anything like you right now." He shakes his head and takes another drink. "He lost everything and I don't know, but that kind of makes him one of us, doesn't it?"

 

“Are we going to adopt every stray we find?”

 

“Maral is going to go back to her family,” Tony said and took another drink, “Bruce told me Loki saved the Asgardians.”

 

“So are we return the strays to their people?” There is an edge in her voice that Tony knows, an edge that hides the pain she feels. She has a chance at closure that Tony will never have and he won’t deny her that.

 

“After we find your sister.” He doesn’t say her body.

 

Nebula nods and there is nothing left to say.

 

***

 

Loki rinses his mouth and runs a hand over his face. He hasn't felt this terrible since waking up on that barren rock after falling from the rainbow bridge. Only instead of waking up to torture on a slab of rock, he woke up on a bed in a ship, a ship he should steal. When he can stand up straight without feeling faint. The mirror distorts his face just enough to make him look about as awful as he feels.

 

“Fuck,” Loki sighs and takes another sip of water. For now, his stomach has settled and he finds himself well enough to not return to bed. He sits for a while, stares at the wall. He needs to think but in his thoughts he always finds himself in the same place, thrown around like nothing but a sack of flesh and bones. He hadn’t even been able to stay conscious enough to attempt to defend himself. His body had simply betrayed him and he knows no amount of alcohol can wash that feeling away. Nothing can wash away how useless and filthy he feels.

 

Nothing happens. No one comes to find him. There is no sound of anyone on the ship. Loki lasts barely a few minutes before his thoughts of self-pity are replaced by utter boredom. Stark wouldn’t dare imprison him, he is a- perhaps he would now that he knew Loki is powerless against him. Perhaps that was why he had gotten him drunk, to lure him here. How dare he- Loki slams his hand on the door mechanism with rage expecting to be denied access. The door opens with a quiet hiss and Loki’s hand stings. He takes a breath and climbs up into the common area of the ship. No one is there. The entire ship appears empty. He should simply steal it for having been abandoned. However, instead, he makes his way through the airlock and onto the station. A station which appears as empty as the ship and for a moment, Loki wonders if perhaps this is a dream.

 

“And what are you doing on my station?” The deep voice and large hand on his shoulder tell Loki that a dream is very unlikely.

 

“Allow me to explain,” he turns around and puts on his most charming smile. The man isn’t particularly tall but he is broad, muscular, healed scars on his face, he definitely has seen his share of battle. He doesn’t seem angry or aggressive, that’s to Loki’s advantage. If he can just weave a web of lies enough to convince him, perhaps seduce him he could-

 

“You’re Loki, right? Stark’s friend?” The man smiles broadly and claps Loki on the shoulder and he is reminded of Thor. “I’m Stakar Ogord.”

 

“Of course you are,” Loki says and smiles as if he has any idea what that means. The man knows Tony which means he either knows what Loki used to be or what Loki is now and Loki is hoping for the former rather than the latter.

 

“Busy?” Stakar asks in a way that tells Loki even if he is busy, there isn’t going to be a choice.

 

“Just looking for my friend,” Loki’s smile doesn’t falter. He has talked himself out of worse situations. This is just someone trying to establish his authority, someone trying to make sure Loki knows whose throat to slit should he require to establish his own authority.

 

“I’ll show you where he is,” Stakar ushers Loki along the corridors, “after you talk to my wife.”

 

“Your wife?” Loki raises an eyebrow but before he can say anything else, a door opens beside him. A woman stands in the doorframe. She is slight but Loki can tell she is also deadly. And that smirk, that glint in her eyes, that tells him she’s about as stable as his sister.

 

“His wife,” she says and motions for Loki to follow her which he does. Stakar definitely would have been the easier one to get past but Loki had been bored so he will take this as the distraction for which he had asked.

 

“I presume you also know my name?” He says as he sits down in what looks a bit like a boardroom torture chamber. It isn’t his aesthetic but he can appreciate the efficiency.

 

“I do,” she says and does not offer her own. Loki doubts pleasantries matter at this point. Pleasantries seem her husband’s game.

 

“And you are here because you have never before seen a god and could not help but take a peak.” He leans back in his chair, legs sprawled, and looking as comfortable and superior as he possibly can. He does not expect her to burst out laughing. He immediately scans to room for a weapon. He can tell when someone isn’t stable and she definitely reminds him of his sister now.

 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Asgardian,” she chuckles, “you may be strong but I know your kind does bleed.”

 

“So why have you asked me here?” Loki keeps his face on polite ennui. The room is uncomfortably void of anything that he could turn into a weapon save the table and chairs. Even he could find a weapon, he isn’t sure how easy fight will come to him now that his body is practically human.

 

“Tony vouched for you, do you understand what that means?”

 

“I am sure you will tell me momentarily.” Loki sighs. He doesn’t care what that means. He doesn’t care for this station. It is but a necessity until he knows where he wants to go. It’s easier to believe that than think about the alternative.

 

“It means he accepts responsibility for your actions should you decide to feel the need to entertain yourselves at the cost of anyone seeking shelter on this station.”

 

“Meaning what? He gets thrown into a cell if I decide to have a little fun?” He raises an eyebrow and smirks.

 

“Meaning if you break any of the station’s rules,” she smiles at him, “I cut his throat, slowly, while you watch.”

 

“You would have gotten along famously with my sister.” Loki smiles in return.

 

“Tony vouched for you,” she simply repeats. “Do you understand what that means?”

 

“I do,” he says and it is the truth. A truth he will need some time to digest.

 

“Good,” she gets up and strolls towards the door. “My husband and I have grown rather fond of him, it would be a shame to have to kill him because of you. You are free to go, Stakar will take you to your friends now.”

 

Loki gets up and doesn’t say anything. What could he possibly say? Tony must have been drunk when he agreed to this or gone mad. Both very distinct possibilities. Stakar doesn’t say anything to him either. He silently leads Loki to what would have made a fine banquet hall on Asgard and points at a table where Tony and Nebula sit in silence.

 

“Stark, you misplaced your friend,” he says and Loki frowns. He most certainly had not been misplaced. “You should take better care of him, Aleta declared his default punishment as death.” Stakar squeezes Tony’s shoulder and brushes his hand against Tony’s cheek before he withdraws. _Oh._ Perhaps he misjudged Tony’s relationship with Nebula.

“Of course she did,” Tony smiles and shakes his head. “I’m gonna assume I’m babysitting rather than… joining you?”

 

“Unfortunately,” Stakar smiles sadly, “perhaps another time.” And with that, he walks away.

 

“God you three are annoying,” Nebula growls into her cup.

 

“I just got here.” Defense seems to be the default setting Loki needs to have whilst on this station.

 

“Yeah and you better stay within my sight,” Nebula switches to a hiss and looks at Tony, “you vouched for him?!”

 

“Were you going to?”

 

“Of course not!” She runs her hand over her face.

 

“While these interpersonal squabbles are rather entertaining,” Loki says and leans back in his chair. “Why _did_ you vouch for me?”

 

“Lost half the universe,” Tony says and gets up with a pained hiss. He pours something into his mug. The smell of alcohol wafts across the table. “Can’t afford to lose more, so don’t get me killed okay?” He pours another mug and slides it toward Loki before sitting down again, barely covering a grimace of pain.

 

“Okay,” Loki says and for now accepts Tony’s words as they are. He looks at the mug and takes a sniff. It smells better than whatever Tony had given him last night, but this morning has not been long enough ago to forget what alcohol now does to him.

 

“Hair of the dog,” Tony simply says, “cures any hangover.”

 

“Does it cure your injuries as well?”

 

“Hey,” Tony takes a drink from his mug, “we were wallowing over the end of the universe as we know it, not focusing on whatever injuries I may or may not have. But if you insist, we can talk about them and then continue talking about how you feel about your newly found mortality.”

 

“Hair of the dog you say,” Loki says and takes a gulp from the mug and coughs.

 

“There, you’re one of us now.” Tony clinks his mug against Loki’s and drains its contents. Loki is pretty sure Nebula isn’t drinking this early in the morning, but he takes this moment the universe had given him. He is free. He is among what he supposes are friends. For now, that is enough. It will have to be.

 

 

 

 

 

  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	13. He Who Will Not Serve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh it's been a hot minute hasn't it? NaNoWriMo does that, but that also means I am back to having a buffer aww yeah. With hols and stuff coming up, updating every 7-10 days should work. Now that the Avengers trailer is out, I gotta hurry and finish this XD

The call that Maral’s family has arrived comes a few hours later when Tony has almost finished his work on the power converter, Nebula sits in the back sharpening her swords, and Loki- no matter how much he denies it- is taking a nap. Tony isn't sure whether or not that should concern them. The whole no powers thing and being drugged for who knows how long probably doesn't help with having boundless energy. Of course there is the hangover to consider. Tony is fairly sure that practically gods didn't get hangovers, so all in all a brand new experience of misery for Loki.

 

"Finally," Nebula grunts and sheaths her swords, "I thought we were going to be stuck here forever."

 

"I'll wake Maral," Tony offers because Nebula is in a mood. He gets it and he knows she covers him when he finds himself in a mood, too. "And I should wake up Loki, too, after all he protected her."

 

"I'll go talk to Aleta," Nebula says with a sneer.

 

Tony doesn't remind her that she shouldn't bite their heads off or to try and be nice. They are reuniting Maral with her family. Nebula understands how much that means and he’s fairly certain that’s why the mood. He knocks on his door to wake up Loki but there is no immediate answer. He would let him sleep, but he knows that Loki would regret if he did not say goodbye to Maral which would strike him as bizarre but after all the turns his life has taken, this is just another day. So, Tony opens the door and chuckles when he sees Loki, tangled in sheets, hair in his face, back in Quill's pyjamas bottoms.

 

"Hey," Tony says a little louder to get Loki up out of bed, "Maral's family is here."

 

Loki turns around with a deeply unenthusiastic groan. He looks at Tony with one eye open and falls back onto the pillows.

 

"I'll be there shortly," he sniffs and slowly sits up again.

 

"I’m gonna wake Maral," Tony says and leaves the room and climbs back up the ladder to climb back down where he expects Maral to be sleeping in Nebula's bunk. Only Maral is already awake, wearing a simple tunic and trousers and a big smile as she puts a flower clip in her hair.

 

"Are they here?" She asks, excited and Tony knows she is an adult, but she looks like a child right now, innocent and happy, not like a young woman who has gone through hell. He is sure that will settle in later, but he hopes her family will see her through that.

 

"Yeah they're here," he says. "Meet you upstairs when you're ready. Loki will join us, too."

 

"Good," she simply says and turns back to adjusting the flower clip in her hair. Tony leaves her to it and climbs back upstairs where Loki has made it out of bed. He’s still wearing Quill's pyjama bottoms but he put on a t-shirt. Not that aliens care, but they gotta get Loki some other clothes. While Quill's stuff fits him well enough, it doesn't feel right. And Loki doesn't look particularly impressed by the wardrobe choices either. Tony's seen the guy. He dresses to the nines, suits and ties or full battle armour. He's never seen him in anything else and he doubts that Loki would willingly ever wear anything else.

 

"How's the hangover?"

 

"Being mortal is terrible." Loki responds somewhere between a pout and a glower.

 

There isn't more time for pleasantries because Maral climbs up with big bright eyes asking where her family is. Tony calls Stakar on comm to find out and of course, they meet her family flanked by Aleta- no longer in armour or covered in blood- and Stakar in the boardroom torture chamber, now also a family reuniting room. It almost seems like they are trying to keep them to this part of the station, but before he can say or even think anything else, there is a high pitched squeal from Maral and an equally excited noise from what appears to be her family. She bursts out in tears as she runs towards them and Tony can't help the smile when she happily sobs against them as they hold her tight. Even Loki looks like he's holding back his emotions until he notices Tony’s glance, then his face returns to polite ennui.

 

"How can we ever repay you," the eldest looking woman says to Tony, "you returned our daughter to us."

 

"I don't really-," Tony still doesn't know what to say to these things. He feels awkward, uncertain. It's one thing talking himself out of a dangerous situation, it is an entirely other thing to accept gratitude like this. Not when his actions have caused so much harm. Not when he is responsible for the end of everything.

 

"We are simply glad that she is with her family," Loki steps forward and Tony let's him take the lead on this one. "No one should be kept against their will like that. I only wish we could have escaped sooner and without her help, I don't believe we would ever have escaped. Your gratitude is our gratitude."

 

Wow, okay, maybe he should let Loki take lead on more things, because Maral's family beams at her with pride and holds her closer. That whole silver tongue thing isn’t the euphemism Tony thought it was.

 

"But if you have a spare fuel converter unit, we could use one of those." Nebula chimes in leaning against the wall. At least she didn’t bring her swords.

 

"Nebs," Tony looks at her and shakes his head. They're not shaking down a family for spare parts when they've just been reunited with their daughter.

 

 "We do not mind," Maral's father says with a smile that might break his face in half. "You saved our daughter, if one of our spare parts can make your life easier then will gladly supply you."

 

"We are most grateful for your generosity," Loki bows and even Nebula looks at him a little impressed when he easily navigates through the situation and by the end of it, he and Maral's family are laughing together and promise to keep in touch. There is a lot of hugging and he is blatantly flirting with all three of Maral's parents. Tony wonders if that would have been him so utterly at ease, but he already knows he is a broken man who only sometimes can talk himself through things these days. He would regret his inability to find stride within the conversation but family has and will always make him uncomfortable. He saves people and moves on. He used to do it for the recognition as much as for the sake of doing a good thing. Now he just wants to do good things and get on with it.

 

"Looks like you gained the favour of one of Xandar's most influential families back before the planet was devastated." Aleta leans against the wall looking at Loki. "You use that tongue of yours well."

 

"Oh I most certainly do," Loki doesn't grin to convey what he means, but his intent is obvious, "in all parts of life." Or maybe it is a euphemism after all. Tony wants to roll his eyes but he just watched Loki flirt his way through most of a family.

 

Aleta just looks at him and hums before motioning for him to join her. That hits Tony in the chest in ways he definitely did not expect. He feels cast aside, replaced, and worst of all, kind of betrayed and he isn't sure by whom.

 

"Joining us?" She looks at Tony and that doesn't make it better.

 

"Hard no," he says without looking at Loki. He is not having a threesome with the guy who haunted his nightmares for years no matter how much the guy redeemed himself, no matter what kind of truce they have going on at this moment. No matter how amused he’s been with Loki’s flirting.

 

"Is it a _hard_ no?" Loki's lip twitches and Tony is this close to mentioning the lack of his powers, but he doesn't.

 

"Guess you won't find out." He simply says and looks Loki straight in the eyes. "Have fun. We leave as soon as we install the fuel converter and refuel."

 

Loki doesn't to know what to make of that, Tony can tell. Fuck, Tony doesn't know why there's a bitter note to his words. If Aleta notices- and he is sure she does-, she refrains from mentioning it. He does not care. Tony does absolutely not care. The relationship he has with Aleta and Ogord is entirely platonic and entirely sexual. There are not romantic feelings. They are fond of him and he is fond of them but that does not mean he hopes for more than what it is. It is a longer-ish term booty call and that’s it. He has sex because having sex with them alone or together is amazing. It feels good. It makes him forget that he is here only by the mercy of a mad Titan who decided to spare his life and then it had been chance, pure unadulterated chance. Tony hates chance. Statistically, he had the same chance to survive or perish as anyone else and yet most of the people he was with perished and he and Nebula were the ones to survive. Nebula, he understands, but himself, he never will. It will haunt him forever but there is nothing he can do but drink and fuck until he forgets that all of this is in part his fault. If not for him, for his weakness, then maybe, just maybe they could have stopped Thanos. But he failed.

 

And Aleta inviting Loki into her bed reminds him of that failure, reminds him that he is nothing more than a chance encounter of which she has not yet tired. He does not want love, he wants to feel as if he belongs and he felt like that with Aleta and Ogord, he felt wanted, like he belonged. Now all that feeling, that feeling which has barely curbed the thoughts spiralling inside his head, that feeling is gone and all he has left is the gaping void which sucks in all shreds of happiness, any hope of not spiralling out of control is lost.

 

"I need a drink." He says which earns him a look from Nebula but nothing more. She does not stop him when he leaves without another word, heading straight toward the bar. She will take care of the fuel injector. He knows she is capable and he knows she won't leave him here. So he heads straight to the mess hall which by now has a lot more people in it, eating and laughing and a lot of yawning. He finds the bottle he had stashed away earlier and takes a deep, long swig before looking around the room. He needs something, he needs someone, he needs to feel alive right now and he cannot go back on his word and join Aleta nor can he find Ogord and just fuck him until they both can't sit down for a week. He needs someone, something, he needs an edge, he needs danger, and he needs to be reckless. He looks around and a few people catch his eyes but he is not sure any of them are up for it. So maybe he should just... announce his intentions and see who bites.

 

"Drinks and fun in my bunk," he says with a hollow smile as he walks past a table and takes another swig of the bottle before leaving it there. It is the perfect day to get well day drunk. Is it still morning? He hasn’t checked and he doesn’t care. Instead he just saunters off toward 'his' room. He makes it all the way to the corridor on the floor where his room is located when he feels strong arms on his shoulder.

 

"Just making sure that was an offer," he hears a deep voice and puts on his best grin.

 

"It definitely was." He turns around and is met with a lot of teeth. "But maybe let’s keep those away from more delicate parts."

 

As it turns out, that is entirely fine when he sinks to his knees. Genitals between legs appears to be a very popular configuration across the universe and that just makes it much easier for him, even if said genitals are a lot more tentacle than anything. He fucking loves space when he feels them deep inside him as the guy grunts below him once they finally make it to the bed. He keens and pants because tentacle dick isn't the only one who has come along and Tony is definitely in a mood for more. And more he definitely gets, especially once someone offers him a small bottle from which to sniff to "enhance the experience" and Tony is all about enhancing everyone's experience and takes a deep breath. He comes right there with tentacles dick still inside him and grins broadly. That's the stuff. That's definitely what he needs and before long, he is panting and moaning around dick while he feels himself filled and pounded and taken in all the fantastic ways he had intended when he had walked past that table. It's perfect, he thinks before he briefly blacks out.

 

***

 

"You will want to hurry," Aleta stretches on the bed and tosses Loki his trousers. "I know Nebula will not leave Anthony behind but you, I am not so sure."

 

"Heh," Loki feigns a chuckle and catches them mid-air. "Well I best be on my way." He knows when he is no longer required. While it is fair enough, he has to admit that this is the first time he has been told to get out in such clear terms. He puts on his shirt and leaves with a curt bow wishing Aleta a pleasant rest of the day. He know better than to allow something so insignificant to impact how he feels.

 

"Tell my husband I require his presence," she speaks into her comm device, already no longer paying attention to Loki. "And food, tell him to bring food, I am famished."

 

Loki decides to take that as a compliment to his skills in bed and sees himself out of her chambers. He does take her advice though he would never admit her words are what make him hurry back to the airlock to find ship is still docked. They waited for him. He refuses to admit he feels relief. And as he reaches the air lock, a rather relaxed looking Tony. Extremely relaxed. Well-fucked. They did not wait for him, Nebula waited for Tony. He feels a different kind of relief and dislikes how it gnaws on his insides so he pushes it deep down back from whence it came.

 

"I see you found some company yourself," Loki observes and Tony gives him a sideways grin. Well-fucked and definitely not sober then.

 

"You're not the only one who gets to have fun, Rudolph." Tony says and considering how relaxed he looks, there is definitely an edge in his voice that feels out of place. However Loki does not get to investigate because Nebula walks out of the airlock looking rather irritated and he knows better than to open his mouth when she is irritated.

 

“I was about to leave without either of you,” she growls and Loki does not for a moment doubt that she would have. There is something familiar about that, something he feels he should remember but does not. Instead, he follows Tony onto the Benatar. Or rather he catches Tony as he cackles, misses a step, and nearly falls to what likely would have been at least a very unpleasant landing with a few broken bones.

 

“He’s not sober,” Nebula sighs but appears to be used to it. “Put him in his bunk, I assume you know how to co-pilot?”

 

“I presume my piloting expertise are not truly required?” Loki says and holds on to Tony who wants to wander off, wrapping his arm around the man’s waist.

 

“Anyone can fly a space ship.” Nebula rolls her eyes and disappears from view. “Stark. Bunk. You. Co-pilot.” She reiterates from above them and Loki sighs and looks at Tony.

 

“All right Stark,” he says and Tony looks at him with glassy eyes and a big dumb smile.

 

“It’ll wear off in… an hour?” He says or rather slurs and thinks really hard about it. “Yeah, an hour, two at max. I don’t remember but he said it will definitely not last all day. I think.”

 

“He?” Loki is not particularly surprised, not after he had seen how Stakar Ogord and Tony has interacted, but he also is not convinced that Ogord is the one who bedded Tony this morning. However, Tony just laughs. “Dude, I’m high as a kite, I don’t remember their names.” He chuckles as he somehow manages to hold on to the ladder enough that Loki only has to help a little to get him down to his bunk. So, Tony Stark has a bit of a fun side to him. It’s not all scowls and brooding then. Briefly, he wonders if Nebula has a similar side, but even knowing her for such a short time, he knows that it most certainly is not where his mind should go.

 

“Should I find one of Nebula’s injectors?” Loki offers when Tony can barely put himself to bed. Those were indeed powerful injections. He suspects nanite technology which simply analyses the body and counteracts any foreign substances causing intoxication.

 

“Nah,” Tony stretches and smiles, “I think I’ll ride this out. It’s nice y’know?”

 

Loki would certainly disagree with such an assessment. Strongly disagree, but he knows that his most recent experimentation with sex and drugs has been tainted by the unfortunate fact that he had ended up without his powers and lent into a collection all of which had been utterly against his personal preferences and desire. Even now, thinking of it makes Loki seethe quietly and he cannot begin to imagine all the things he will do to the Grandmaster to exact his revenge. Flaying is the first thing that comes to mind but without powers, he knows he does not stand a chance. So he will bide his time and play along with whatever these fools have planned with their lives until either his powers are restored or he finds a better use of his time.

 

“Well enjoy your… ride,” Loki smiles as if he is not about to break his fist on a bulkhead. Tony is already too busy staring at his hand and Loki shakes his head before climbing back upstairs.

 

Nebula sits in the chair. She looks more relaxed than Loki has ever seen her and it surprises him that she does not immediately notice his presence. Something distracts her, something in her hand. Quietly, Loki moves closer, moves at an angle so he can better see what it is she is holding. He notices her tears first, and then the holo image in front of her. It is of her rolling her eyes and a woman with green skin- he knows that woman. Her name is Gamora, a daughter of Thanos. And in the holo image she laughs at whoever is holding the camera and hugs Nebula who eventually gives in and returns the embrace and the image resets.

 

“You’re a daughter of Thanos,” he says with surprise, but the greater surprise is when he does not find himself with a dagger against his throat. Nebula looks startled, unable to comprehend that someone snuck up on her. “She is your sister?”

 

“Yes,” Nebula wipes the tears away with her sleeve and turns off the holo image. “Was. She was my sister.”

 

Loki doesn’t ask why Nebula is not more guarded around him. He assumes she believes him not to be a threat and well, that is not as far from the truth as he would like. Besides, she has invited him to help her after all and while it is very much an empty gesture, he sits down in the empty seat and moves to put his feet on the console but a stern look from Nebula reminds him to value his life over maximum comfort.

 

"If I am to navigate," he says and leans back in his chair, lets his legs fall open to take up the most amount of space he can in a possibly feeble attempt to let her know that he is not afraid of her. Which is not untrue, but he does have a very healthy amount of respect for her. After all, she did rescue him and knowing she is a daughter of Thanos just means that her tears make her stronger and more deadly.

 

"Map's here," she tosses a small sphere at him.

 

"Xandarian?" He asks about the space ship. Most of them are the same, it's easy to operate them, but this ship isn't what he has encountered before. It is more convoluted, more not complicated but messy. Can spaceship designs be messy?

 

"Ravager. Navigation slot is the blue one."

 

"Of course it is." He looks at the sphere and then at the rectangular slot, but he isn't an idiot and feels for a small indentation on the sphere. His finger finds it and when he presses down it opens with a soft click. The navigational data is on a data slip which fits perfectly into the blue slot. "So where are we-," he breaks off when the map explodes in front of him. As he looks at the stars swirl before his eyes, he can feels an odd sensation in his belly, a strange pull as he looks at the map. For a moment it's as if he can feels the stars call him home. He shakes his head to free him of this feeling. It's vast and it takes a few moments before he can find them amongst the multitude of stars.

 

"Heading to the nearest jump port," Nebula announces as she pulls the ship away from the station. "Going to make two jumps in case anyone decides to trail us, then we plot a course."

 

"Where are we going?" Loki asks and looks for the destination marker through the continuous swirl of stars and then when he finds it, he can't help the surprised breath he takes or how he leans forward in his chair. "I truly am sorry for your loss." He says and he means it. Where they are going, Thanos and Nebula had gone together and he knows only Thanos had come back. He understands that feeling of loss. This is not a rescue mission, it is a pilgrimage.

 

"Jumping on my mark," Nebula says without acknowledging Loki's words. "Three, two, mark."

 

The jump is rough. Loki never had issues travelling from place to place with his power, through gates and portals, but this he has to admit feels rather rough. His body aches far too long after the jump is completed. It feels as if his cells are still rearranging themselves back into their original configuration. They scan their surroundings and for a while, Loki wonders if she believes they are being followed. When after ten minutes no ship appears, they jump again. This time it takes a lot of effort not to vomit.

 

"This is a lot more fun immortal." He groans and leans back in his chair trying to catch his breath.

 

"Didn't Thanos snap your neck?"

 

"Practically immortal, one does not always encounter a mad Titan."

 

"He wasn't mad," Nebula says, still not looking at Loki. "At least not the way we think. He cared, not about me or any of his other children but he cared about Gamora and he cared about the universe."

 

"He made me try to enslave earth for one of the infinity stones." Loki says and raises an eyebrow. Does she truly still care about her father? "For a very brief time, I was a son of Thanos when I was lost. It's how he found all of us, isn't it? Lost, confused, without anyone else to turn to but him?"

 

"This isn't about him," finally she looks at him, "this is about my sister. She went with him to save my life. Bringing her back, burying her, I owe her that."

 

"I understand," Loki says because as much as he would love to pretend that he does not care about Thor, he would indeed risk his life and limb to find and bury Thor's body. Though he is uncertain whether to hope that should Thor be alive, he would do the same. "Looks clear, no portal activity. We should plot a course."

 

He looks at the map and runs his fingers through the stars, watches them swirl as he has the same feeling again. The call, the peace. He had died protecting his brother. He had died redeeming himself, or so he hopes that he has. Perhaps there is nothing he could have done to erase the wounds he had left upon the universe, but he does truly hope that he has lessened their pain. It remains a mystery to him as to how he is still alive or alive again. He does not believe that he had imagined the sound of his neck snapping or the darkness which followed. Something out here, it calls him home.

 

"Okay," he shakes his head. "I know this may seem like a crazy idea, but," his fingers quickly move over the map until there is a path to their destination, Vormir.

 

"That’s the fastest path?" She looks at him as she has the computer check for other options.

 

"That's the fastest path." Sunday nearly breaks when the warning messages spread across the map. "Fastest, not safest." He clarifies.

 

"Yeah and you and Stark are a lot more mortal than I am. The radiation from that star clusters is going to kill you both before we pass through," she moves her finger over the map. "Sunday give me a path based on human survival parameters."

 

The map flickers for a moment before whatever Sunday is pulls up a new course through the map with a way too cheery "estimated length of travel 86 months."

 

Nebula groans with frustration. "Okay how about one that's shorter but might kill one of them?"

 

"Hey." Loki protests but Sunday comes up with a plan that only takes 24 months. Yeah, they might be here for a while if this continues. "Uh... Sunday?" He clears his throat. "Show us any obstacle which is certain to kill a human and the distance required to be safe. Can you mark them red?" A swath of red dots and blotches appears."

 

"Now mark all the things that are deadly to humans in sub ten hours. Mark them orange." Nebula says because she understands what it is Loki is doing. "And then mark anything that is perfectly safe for a human to travel through in green." The map begins to change and it becomes clear what path to take, where to travel at light speed, where to use jump ports. It takes some time and a few heated discussions for them to get onto the same page but Loki thinks that in the end, the course looks a lot better. Not nearly as fast as the course he had plotted but six days is a lot better than years.

 

"Six days," he says and once again leans back in his chair. "Tony might even be awake again by the time we arrive."

 

"He told me you haunt his nightmares." Nebula says and Loki just looks at her. She has an incredible ability to just cut through what had been a respectably good time and stab it with that. “You nearly killed him.”

 

"That had been my intention." Loki chuckles and shakes his head. Only that isn't true. "I so desperately wanted to be a benevolent king. Has he told you of our first encounter? He faced me with nothing but the clothes on his back and the offer of a drink."

 

"He says you almost accepted." She's testing him, wants to know how much of him is a threat to her mission and he doesn't blame her.

 

"I wanted to." Loki admits out loud for the first time. "A drink, lay down my weapon and everyone's nightmare would have been over. Only he would have decimated Earth and taken the Tesseract." He had gone over the scenario time and time again. In his cell, there had been nothing but time to think. "Fighting me gave them time to well defeat my army and remove both the Tesseract and the Mind Stone from his grasp and when the beast finally defeated me, I was removed from its power over me. The short version if you will." He sighs. “But really you already know all this, do you not? This is simply a test to see if I will lie to you."

 

"Lies are for what you are known, Loki," Nebula simply says. "It's why father liked you."

 

"You knew who I was back in Tivan's collection."

 

"And you didn't need to know that," she says and looks at him. "I didn't know you were there but when I saw you, I knew who you used, but none of us are those people anymore. Stark can be insightful like that.”

 

"You're right," Loki says quietly, "we are not." He sighs and stares at the stars streaking by as the move through space. He is not who he used to be more so than she can possibly understand. No matter what Tony had heard, none of it compares to how disconnected Loki feels from the world in this moment. He cannot allow himself to confide in Nebula simply because he knows that if she believes him a threat to the universe, she will abandon him at the nearest planet and tell Tony to get over it if he protests. The pull continues, a dull ache inside his chest, a lurching in his belly and he knows he cannot follow the call, no matter how much it tears at him. And for that, he is truly, desperately sorry. It lessens eventually, but it never leaves him. He wonders if it has always been there and he had simply been able to subdue it with his powers. He closes his eyes and breathes slowly but there is no thread. There is nothing that connects him to this universe any more. Without powers, he is not Loki, son of Thanos, nor is he Loki brother of Thor, or Loki, God of Mischief. He simply is a speck of dust among the stars.

 

"We jump again in a few minutes," Nebula says loud enough to wake him. Had he fallen asleep? This time, the jump doesn't feel quite as terrible. "We have a few hours before I need a navigator again, you should get some rest and maybe make sure Tony hasn't choked on his own vomit."

 

“Very well,” Loki says and gets up. While he will not admit it, he knows he can feel the energy drain from his body. He sighs and climbs down the steps: check on Tony, eat a ration bar, get some sleep. He can manage that. He does not yet dare to think what the future holds.

 

 

 

 


	14. Oh Morning Star, What Have You Done?

 

 

Loki sleeps in a room which contains no more than a single cot and a few daggers inside a box. There is a holo imager and when he plays with it, he sees a happy family together laughing in front of a fire. Asgard never had such need for sentiment. He puts the holo image on the floor and closes his eyes. Thankfully, he falls asleep so quickly that his mind cannot begin to think about his fears and worries. His mother had always called him a child full of worries. If she were still alive, he would certainly tell her that of course he worried as a child, his brother is Thor which at the time- and perhaps even still- was synonymous with reckless abandon. Worry was what kept Loki alive. Until it did not. His dreams are quiet, vague images of the stars, his sister's laugh, Thor's voice telling him things would be okay, Tony Stark handing him a drink, Aleta dragging her tongue across his abdomen, Maral sitting on his chest feeding worms into his ears. When he wakes, all memory of those dreams falls away and it is as though he never had any. At least not that he can recall. He is tired still, but he assumes that being mortal simply is an existence of utter and continued exhaustion. It is unfortunate but it is what it is. Slowly, he gets up, feeling sore everywhere and not the pleasant kind of sore, but the worrying kind. Loki is not certain he ever noticed a difference between the two until this very moment.

 

It is not only his muscles which bring him discomfort. There is a sharp pain in his ear as well, sharp enough for him to flinch and press his fingers against his ear. When he pulls them away there is blood on them. The sensation of terror he feels in his guts is strange and new. He is afraid, he is afraid of death. Having cheated it so many times before, he knows that if he dies now, it will certainly be the end. And he finds that he is terrified. Terrified of death, terrified of genuine mortality. The blood does not continue its flow from his ear but it is enough to send his heart pounding in his throat. What if losing his powers is slowly killing him? What if he is already on his death bed? He does not know what he will do with this newly found life but he does know that it ending shortly is not what he considers as an option. Without thinking, without even wiping his hand, he climbs down to Tony's bunk and knocks as he enters.

 

Tony is sprawled out on his bed, cock in his hand or at least it is until he startles and scrambles up and looks at Loki with a mixture of confusion, fear, and utter disbelief. Loki pauses, uncertain of whether to leave immediately. He decides against it.

 

"I require your assistance," he simply says.

 

 "Seriously?!" Tony wipes his hand on his pants and pulls them back up. "I was having a moment here." He was, a great moment remembering his most recent adventure. He would ask if Loki knows how to knock but he definitely had knocked while practically storming into his room and- "Wait is that blood on your hands?" Tony gets up off the bed and looks for his shirt. "Whose blood is that?"

  

"Mine, obviously." Loki rolls his eyes and Tony would prefer if he had at least blushed a little.

  

"Not sure that's obvious," and just like that any residual boner is gone at the sight of blood with the possibility of Loki having drawn it. Tony isn't sure if that's good or bad but for now he goes with good. "What happened?" He pulls the small towel off his bed he had intended to clean up after himself, but that's not gonna happen anymore, so he wets it a little and wipes some of the blood from Loki's neck.

 

"I woke up in pain and when I touched my ear, there was blood." Loki flinches when Tony touches his skin with the towel.

 

"It's okay, just cleaning up."

 

"It hurts."

 

"The towel?"

 

"The touch." Loki sighs with exasperation. "As if you do not know what it feels like to be this... broken."

 

Tony doesn't know how to respond to that so he just shrugs and lets Loki take the towel.

 

"At least now I understand why you mortals are always this aggressive and emotional," Loki says with a grimace as he wipes at the blood on his neck and ear.

 

"Wait what?" Tony looks at Loki for a few beats.

 

"You are constantly in pain and falling apart, it truly is no wonder tha-"

 

"Whoa let me cut you off right these because this?" He gestures at Loki's bleeding ear. "This isn't normal. We aren't always in pain, well some of us are but that's not the norm. You shouldn't be in constant pain, especially not after we healed your injuries."

 

"I would say that is comforting to know but I believe you just have implied that there may be something seriously wrong with me and as someone who has lost his nigh immortality, I feel the opposite of comfort."

 

"Hey you know what?" Tony opens the door to the ladder. "Why don't we pay a visit to the med bay and check you over again?"

 

"I believe that is why I came."

 

"Well I didn't so I'm gonna be mildly grouchy but also concerned. Get your ass up that ladder, kid."

 

The noise Loki makes when he calls him kid is hilarious and he makes a note to call him that more often. At least once they figure out what the heck is going on with him. Random severe pain and bleeding from the ear isn't what Tony considers to be a good time. It also worries him that the ear is the same ear in which he had put the translation connect-y worm fish. Tony has not had any issues with that ear but he assumes their physiology is different enough for that to matter. He climbs up after Loki. It should surprise him how easily they just adopted him into their little group, but it doesn't. If they hadn't found Maral's family, they would have adopted her into the little group, too. Maybe it's instinct to want to group together or maybe it's because their lives are fucked up enough as is that no one deserves to be all alone. And until they find the rest of the Asgardians, Loki is all alone without them. He probably knows that, too, because he looks really fucking worried when he thinks Tony isn’t paying attention.

 

"Okay," he says as he pulls out the scanner panel, "lie down here." And when Loki does, he lets the panel go and it arches over Loki's chest and abdomen. "Gonna turn it on and thankfully it is programmed to do its thing while we wait.” He swallows a joke about accidentally removing a kidney. “Any other symptoms aside from all-over pain and pain in your ear."

 

"No," Loki is nervous. Tony can tell by how he wets his lips with his tongue. "Aside from my missing powers of course but that...," he trails off and Tony doesn't blame him.

 

"So I was thinking," that's a lie, he had just thought of it.

 

In that moment, his brain had decided that they for one needed something to do and for two, no matter what happens Loki has nothing but the clothes on his back. He has no weapons, no magic. Tony doesn’t have magic, but he has armour and not only does he have armour, he has weapons. And after how much he has upgraded his armour, there is enough left to build Loki one. It won't be based on nanite technology, but he can definitely create something. With a failsafe just in case that is enough for Loki to think that he can betray them. Even if Thor had told Bruce that was beyond him, Thor also had said Loki was dead. Twice. So Tony is going to make sure there is some kind of insurance policy in case Loki decides he is a villain again.

 

"I was thinking now that we're both squishy meat bags, you need armour and I am going to build you some." He glances at the scan which is half complete.

 

"You trust me enough to build me armour," Loki snorts and shakes his head but the table tells him to lay still to complete the scan. "Why can I not believe that?"

 

"That's all you, buddy," Tony says and stands so Loki can see his face. "I was the one who offered you a drink, remember."

 

"To stall until Hulk arrived."

 

"Banner and Hulk were a wildcard then," and if they are still alive, they probably still are. Bruce had changed so much since he had disappeared. Tony just wishes he could have spent more time with him. "Glad they knocked some sense in you but that's not why I offered you that drink and I think you know that."

 

The frustrated noise Loki tries to suppress tells him that yeah, the guy definitely knows that.

 

"I get it and honestly if I lost my ability to be an engineering genius or really a genius period, a hilarious genius by the way, I would feel pretty shitty, too. But we're headed to places that aren’t exactly the safest in the universe and since I would like to keep all of us alive, I'm going to make armour for you. And it'll pinch less if you let me fit it."

 

"Fine," Loki snorts and before Tony can answer the table makes a soft noise and explains that it has finished the scan. Loki looks panicked and then politely disinterested. The man really isn't doing well with this whole mortality thing.

 

"Well you're not dying," Tony leads with that because that's the important part.

 

"But," Loki's voice drips with annoyance, despair... can someone be annoyingly despaired? If they can, Loki nailed it.

 

"That ear fish definitely did some damage," Tony says as he looks at the data. He isn't a medical expert but he's really good at absorbing information and he's read a lot of medical articles in his time. "Not sure if the damage is gonna be permanent, but I can heal the tissue and we can go from there. Any hearing loss?"

 

"Not that I have noticed," Loki shrugs but Tony can tell he's definitely trying to see if there is a difference without sticking a finger into one ear.

 

"Also good, shove this in your ear," he hands Loki a thin medical probe with a narrow attachment for internal tissue stimulation. "Gently."

 

Loki looks suspect but he does as he is told. His face screams: this is humiliating, but Tony doesn't let that disturb him. They've got an ear to heal and distract Loki while Tony tries to make sense of the rest of the readings. Something isn't quite right which makes sense considering he isn't that familiar with Asgardian physiology. Yeah they had Thor but he also knows that Loki isn't entirely Asgardian which is why it strikes him as somewhat odd that Loki would be looking as if he were Asgardian. What makes most sense to Tony is that he would have reverted to the frost giant form which Thor had told him about when he had tried to justify as to why attempting to save Loki was a good plan. Something, something lied to all his life, fallen from grace, gotten in with the wrong crowd, but none of that matters anymore.

 

"How long does this take?" Loki asks after a considerable silence.

 

"Almost there, just a couple more minutes," Tony assures him but he hopes it actually takes a bit longer so he can figure out these readings. It doesn't of course because when does anything go the way Tony would like. He swipes the scan data file into his personal reading folder to look at later.

 

"The pain has significantly lessened," Loki states but there is a part of him that wants Tony to know that it hasn't completely gone. Either cause he's worried or because he doesn't want to give Tony that much credit. Either way, as long as he’s honest, that’s what matters.

 

"That's great," Tony says and takes the problem from Loki and tosses it into the ‘to be cleaned’ pile. The pile is probably larger than it should be but they're not exactly in a hospital. "The rest should resolve in a couple of days. We'll repeat the scan then just in case you need more fixing."

 

"Very well," Loki nods and slowly gets up off the table. "If there is nothing else, I will return to my post as co-pilot. You can continue your self-pleasure."

 

"Yeah you killed that boner, Lokes," Tony rolls his eyes as he puts away the scanner. "But once you realise she doesn't actually need a co-pilot, I'll be ready to start work on your armour any time."

 

Loki doesn't respond to that. Instead, he just leaves and goes to join Nebula. And because Tony has nothing better to do, he follows.

 

Nebula sits with one foot propped up on the console, leaning back in her chair, and yeah, she's fast asleep. Tony thinks that's pretty damn amusing and looks at Loki who appears to have frozen by the sight of Nebula sleeping like it's a trap. And maybe it is. Tony knows she doesn't need nearly as much sleep as pretty much anyone unenhanced. He just puts his finger in front of his lips and motions for Loki to follow him. They might as well get some work done. That will make them less susceptible to being killed either for waking her up or for falling for her trap. And Loki seems to be okay with that because he does follow Tony as quietly as he possibly can. Which is pretty damn quiet. For being mortal, Loki sure has still kept his stealth. It does make Tony wonder. He will mull over that file later.

 

"Welcome chez Tony's Space Lab," he says when they enter a small, cramped room where there is barely enough space for both of them with how much stuff is crammed into it: suit prototypes, spare parts for the ship, crates of stuff they can use to trade, and who knows what is in the boxes at the bottom of the pile. Tony never checked.

 

"Wow and I thought my brother was messy," Loki mocks but it doesn't feel malicious.

 

"Yeah well, I usually don't have company unless I'm helping Nebs with one of her implants."

 

He does tell Loki to sit on the table and not touch anything while he cleans up or rather just shoves things into different piles to have enough space to work. He definitely expects to be doing this in silence while Loki judges every little thing he does but to Tony's surprise, Loki does not judge or mock. He asks questions and eventually those questions morph into a conversation that feels almost as easy as what they had had in their cells when they had the fish worms in their ears.

 

"So you hung out with Bruce," Tony asks after a while because he is curious about Loki's side of what had happened. At the time, it had seemed practically unbelievable: champions, gladiator style fighting, Valkyries, crazy old dudes who run a planet surrounded by the ends of one way wormholes. It was all very hard to put into perspective but now that he has been out here for a while, it does not appear quite so far-fetched.

 

"I would not exactly call it 'hanging out'," Loki says as he starts to sort small pieces of things into piles while he sits on the table and Tony’s gotta say, he has some pretty good intuition when it comes to guessing what belongs together. "Banner only was a brief acquaintance, it was mostly Hulk who was around, probably for the best. Banner would not have lasted more than a few days on the Sakaar."

 

"Yeah he was saying that he was convinced you were still a psychopath until you apparently showed up and saved the day."

 

And oh if Loki doesn't silently gloat when he mentions that. It's a bit hilarious, the suppressed smile, the small shimmy to square his shoulders. But then, his face changes, falls, and for a moment it’s so easy to read Loki, his fears, the hope he still carries. Just as quickly, that expression is gone and his face has fallen back to something Tony can’t quite read.

 

"They were my people," he says quietly, "I couldn't just abandon them. What Thor said to me, it made me remember that I had been more than the betraying little brother. I was king. A king loved by his people. I couldn't just abandon them."

 

"Didn't they think you were Odin?" Tony asks and the look Loki gives him is priceless.

 

"Yes and no," he shakes his head sighs, "the All-Father had become bitter and cruel after mother's death. Not that he hadn't already been that but it had become worse and when I exiled him on Earth, I became the fair and just ruler I was destined to be."

 

"So what you're saying is, they should have noticed but didn't say anything because fair and just ruler and all that."

 

“What can I say, I was loved by all.”

 

“And so modest.”

 

“Please as if you do not thrive off the adoration of others.”

 

Used to. Before the invasion of New York. No, that isn’t right. He definitely enjoyed adoration after that even if he had been preoccupied with trying to protect everyone, he had still gotten a rush from people looking at him with grateful adoration. It wasn’t until after he had been stranded in Siberia in a destroyed suit until help had arrived that he had lost his taste for heroism. It wasn’t until after he had come home to Rhodey in his hospital bed that he had decided that helping on a big scale needed to take a step back. But he doesn’t mention that, he just chuckles and shakes his head as he continues to work. Loki isn’t wrong, but he’s not that person anymore. And neither is Loki. None of them are.

 

“Need your hand for a second.” He says after a while and holds up the beginnings of a gauntlet.

 

“I’m not going to lose that hand, am I?” But Loki extends his wrist maybe a little too dramatic.

 

“Dude do I look like a hobby engineer?” Tony feigns shock and places part of the gauntlet on Loki’s wrist. It envelops his hand smoothly. If Loki is impressed, he hides it well, but Tony doesn’t care because he had a job to finish. “Flex your wrist, see how the movement works, and most importantly, does it chafe anywhere? Trust me, even if it’s just a tiny bit, won’t be pleasant after an hour in the suit.”

 

“It still baffles me that you trust me enough to create a weapon for me,” Loki moves his wrist and Tony can hear where the fingers don’t quite settle, where the movement isn’t as smooth as it should be.

 

“Yeah well, I thought it was clear that we’re all ordinary meat bags now and your brother would kill me if I let anything happen to you. And Nebula would kill me if rescuing your ass compromises the mission. So it’s really all about self-preservation.” He moves and tightens a few joints while the gauntlet is on Loki. “Move again?” This time it is much smoother and this time Loki looks a tiny bit impressed. Tony continues to work. If they keep it up, he can finish the arm up to the elbow within the hour.

 

“You think he’s still alive?” Loki asks out of nowhere after a few minutes of silence. “That he didn’t…” Loki trails off but Tony knows what he means. Fuck does he ever know. Loki doesn’t get how fucking lucky he is to have missed that.

 

“He has to be,” is all he can say. He can feel his throat constrict and his eyes sting when the memory of Peter disintegrating in his arms- shit. He wipes at his eyes and gets up off his chair. “Hey why don’t we go check on Nebs, make sure she knows we’re still alive?” He clears his throat and Loki doesn’t question it for which Tony is silently grateful.

 

“Good,” Nebula says when she hears them join her, “I was about to call you. We have to jump. Strap in. Might be bumpy.”

 

Since Tony needs the distraction, he sits down in the nearest chair. Maybe a jump will take his mind off the voice he can hear so clearly: _I’m sorry._ The jump isn’t just bumpy. Tony feels as if all the cells in his body have been taken apart and put back together out of synch with the rest of the world. He throws up water and half-digested ration bar before he even realises his stomach has rebelled. The world blurs at the edges of his vision as he retches, throws up more than he thinks there possibly should be. He tries to clutch at the chair, to call for help when his vision blurs and he can smell copper, but all that escapes his throat are these heinous noises.

 

“He’s not okay,” Nebula jumps off her chair and Loki follows her. She’s right. Tony is both too stiff and too limp in his chair as he’s hunched over. The pool by his feet looks- that’s too much blood. “Put him on the table!” Nebula barks as she clears the table off with a swipe of her arm.

 

Loki acts on instinct. He throws Tony’s arm over his shoulder without thinking about his weight and carries him over to the table. Nebula helps him get Tony laying down on his side. Tony gags and chokes on pink froth and for once Loki does not hesitate to stick his fingers in Tony’s mouth to make sure he isn’t choking on his tongue and to scoop out the slimy froth.

 

“What the hell did you take?” Nebula asks clearly not expecting a response as she rifles through various kits. Her voice is calm, maybe annoyed but her entire body is tense. “They gotta be in his workshop. Keep him still.” She disappears not telling Loki what they are. That’s all right. Keeping Tony still, he is capable of that. Only then, Tony begins to wheeze and claw at his shirt. Thick red welts appear on his skin where it touches, a red rash quickly deepening in colour. Loki pulls at the shirt, gets Tony out of it. If he just had some cold water and a cloth, but he does not dare leave Tony who still writhes on the table clearly in agony.

 

“You’re going to be okay,” Loki says quietly and lets Tony grip his hand. With his free hand, and grateful for his cold fingers, he gently draws runes on Tony’s back. Runes his mother had used to help him and Thor heal whenever they had fallen ill or hurt themselves. She would weave her magic into them and had taught Loki when he still had been but a wee child. Now they are nothing more than patterns drawn by cold fingers on reddened skin, but they calm Tony enough that he stops writhing. He doesn’t notice their faint glow which appears and sinks into Tony’s skin. He is too focused on gripping Tony’s hand and keeping him still until Nebula returns. Eventually, Tony stills, the grip on Loki’s hand still strong, but his eyes are still rolled back and he still shudders every so often.

 

“Just hang on,” Loki doesn’t stop the movement of his fingers. He talks quietly in the language of the ancestors and continues drawing the glowing runes he does not see. Who does see them is Nebula who silently has come back upstairs with an injection. However she does not say a word.

 

“Good work,” she says as she walks up to them and injects Tony with one swift motion. “What the hell did you take?” She shakes her head and looks at Tony. The welts begin to disappear, Tony’s grip on Loki’s hand relaxes as he closes his eyes.

 

“He seemed fine earlier,” Loki says once Tony appears asleep. “He was well enough to pleasure himself.”

 

“Thanks for that particularly repulsive mental image,” Nebula snarls and scans Tony’s body. “The jump did it. Has to be. Whatever he took, the jump did something. If we jump again before we figure out what’s wrong, it might kill him.”

 

“Didn’t whatever you just injected save him?” Loki asks instead of asking why he had made it through two previous jumps without any problems.

 

“It bought us time to figure out what’s going on.” Nebula says with a sigh. “The nanites should give us more information in a few hours. Until then, we’re stuck here. Our next move was another jump.”

 

 Loki has lied so many times that he knows, he _knows_ when someone is lying to him. And Nebula is lying to him. He isn't certain which part is the lie: Tony's condition, that it will take hours, or that the jump did it. For Tony's sake, and really his own, he stays silent. He is no match for Nebula without his powers. Calling her out right now will end with him on the unpleasant side of the airlock. Whatever her charades, he will figure them out.

 

"You are concerned," is what Loki says instead. She cannot yet know he will call her on her lies. He needs to understand more and oddly enough, he also needs to know Tony is okay. Perhaps he had underestimated his own need to belong. However, he already admitted to that when he had joined Thor's side, had he not? He wants to belong, wants to be with his family, only he has no family left. Whatever Tony said was but a foolish hope.

 

"This is not the first time he has been this reckless," Nebula responds and glances at Tony again. "Keep him warm and let me know as soon as his condition changes." She leaves without another word.

 

"Oh great, now I get to babysit you even while you're unconscious, Stark," Loki says loud enough for Nebula to hear as he pulls a blanket over Tony, his skin no longer marred by open sores. He glances at the scanning unit, still over two hours left which to Loki seems particularly long until he looks closer. Nebula set the same scan to run three consecutive times. She is trying to buy herself time. Why? It makes no sense. She could just maroon Loki somewhere or throw him out the airlock if she wanted him gone. She could have just left without both of them at the station. Something changed. He just has to figure out what it is.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    


	15. The Morning Star Rises II

 

When Tony wakes up, he feels a deep ache in his muscles. The first thing he notices is Loki asleep in a chair against the wall. The second thing he notices is a dart sticking out of his neck. Alarmed, he sits up and that is when he notices the third thing: Nebula's cold hand over his mouth. She hasn't betrayed him yet, so he nods, understanding she wants him to keep silent. He follows her as quietly as he can into the cockpit where she hands him a phase pistol. He looks at her, confused and doesn’t take the pistol.

 

"He's been lying to us," she hisses and glances back at Loki who still appears to be asleep.

 

"What did you give him?"

 

"Enough tranquilizer to knock out a Taran Walrus."

 

"Christ Nebs that could kill him."

 

"Hasn't yet, hasn't for the past hour, don't think it's going to now." Nebula keeps glancing back at Loki. She's too nervous, too agitated for Tony not to take her seriously. It's not a joke and he believes her when she says Loki has been lying. It wouldn't be the first time, it definitely won't be the last.

 

"What's the lie?" He asks because he doesn't need to fly blind here. He can take an explanation or two. "And what happened after the jump. I remember feeling sick and-" he notices the puddle of dried blood and vomit on the floor. "Oh." He doesn't need a deeper explanation than that if he's honest with himself. He can imagine it well enough.

 

"You had a delayed reaction."

 

"To what?"

 

"Something you swallowed." Nebula just raises an eyebrow.

 

"Oh for- seriously?" He hisses because yeah, he can remember a thing or two he swallowed before they left.

 

"The rash gave it away, maybe stop taking drugs strangers give you or at least check if they’re compatible for humans." she says and shakes her head. "Was concerned you wouldn't make it but he healed you. Told him it was caused by the jump to buy us time.”

 

“Oh thank god, I thought you meant something el-,” Tony exhales a breath of relief. “Wait-, Loki lost his powers."

 

"And that's the lie."

 

"Oh fuck."

 

"Yeah." She says with a nod and glances back at Loki. "It's why he isn't dead yet."

 

"Not sure I'm comfortable with you trying to kill him to prove a point." Tony looks over at Loki who really does look like he is just sleeping peacefully.

 

"Clearly I would have saved him if he'd started dying and proven me wrong."

 

Tony doesn't like this tension. Up until not, they had been fine. After all Nebula had rescued Loki knowing who he is. It does confuse him that Loki had come to him with genuine damage to his inner ear. He had seemed genuinely afraid. Had that all been an act? Had he fallen for Loki's deception because he wanted to believe the guy? He runs a hand over his face with a sigh and looks at Nebula. What the hell are they going to do about this?

 

"I'll take care of it," Nebula says. Tony is relieved when she doesn't pull out her swords.

 

"We can lock him in his bunk," Tony offers, but Nebula looks like she's already made up his mind. He knows that face, that steeled look in her eyes. "Neb, don't."

 

"Sorry about this, Tony," she says and punches him square in the nose, knocking him out cold.

 

 

 

Loki wakes with a start. For a moment, he can only feel blind panic. When had he fallen asleep? Why is he on the floor? Where is Tony? Why can't he move his legs? He closes his eyes and takes a breath. His head is pounding and instinctively he touches his ear to see if there is blood again but there is not. His vision swims for a moment as he tries to focus on his surroundings. He moves slowly, his entire body hurts and he definitely can feel his legs now. Images flash before his eyes, images of which he cannot make sense. The world tilts and shifts and he realises he is laying on the floor. Why is it so cold? When he pushes himself up, every bone in his body hurts. Had they crashed while he was asleep? It is then that he feels his heart freeze and his stomach drop. He is in the airlock.

 

“Good, you’re awake,” he hears Nebula’s voice, “for a moment I thought I’d actually killed you.”

 

Loki can’t see her. The small viewfinder in the large door leading to the ship is shut. So is the door which leads to certain death. If he still had his powers, if he still had the seidr concealing him, he would have little worry. Asgardians and Jotuns alike can survive the vacuum of space much longer than other species, certainly longer than humans. However he does not have his powers and Nebula knows that. And he knows that she has a secret. It strikes him as curious that she would already have picked up on that, but she is after all enhanced.  


“What do you want?” He asks and tries not to press himself against a wall or against the door. He can’t show such weakness for he is certain there is a camera in here watching him. He can’t show her that he is terrified or that he knows that all she needs to do is open the door just a few inches, even if he doesn’t fit, the vacuum will crush his flesh and bones until he does. He suspects it will not kill him until it flattens his skull. However, he isn’t ready for that, isn’t ready to let go of his life like that.

 

“I think we both know what I want.” Nebula says and Loki feels his chest constrict. Has she already begun to remove the air from the airlock? He takes a few deep breaths. What does he know? He knows Nebula has a secret. He does not know what it is.

 

“Perhaps we can pretend that I do not and come to some kind of arrangement.” He braces for the inevitable, but it doesn’t come.

 

“You know exactly-“

 

“Maybe he-,” the feed cuts off and Loki feels his insides turn to ice. Stark’s voice. Stark is involved. Stark who nearly died. Stark who had saved Loki’s life. The betrayal twists his insides. Whatever Nebula’s secret, Stark knows. Stark is part of this and Loki will to die. It hurts more than he should allow. It hurts more than it should, but he can’t stop the tearing he feels ripple through his insides.

 

“-is telling the truth?” Tony looks at the screen which displays the airlock. Loki tries to look relaxed but Tony knows what deeply terrified looks like.

 

“He used his powers on you,” Nebula frowns as she watches the screen, “you were healed before I ever injected you.”

 

“Isn’t that proof enough?” Tony almost decides to push the sequence which will let Loki back into the ship. None of this makes sense. Why would he hide his powers? But how could Loki have healed Tony if he doesn't know he has his powers? It doesn't exactly strike Tony as something that's particularly intuitive. Only what if it is? He has too many question and Loki in the airlock isn't going to answer them. "He used his powers to save me, even if he's hiding them he hasn't used them against us."

  

"Yet." Nebula says but she doesn't look as determined as she was a couple of minutes ago. That's good, Tony can work that.

 

"So what, you're gonna eject him into space if he doesn't admit he has his powers?"

 

"That was the plan." Nebula looks at Tony like he's a complete idiot.

 

"You know," Tony runs a hand over his face and groans. "Can we just sit down and talk? No threat of violence? No threat of death?" He doesn’t understand why everything has to be this dramatic. They could have just sat down and talked to Loki. Hell, they could have just right out asked him about his powers while he’s here in the airlock instead of these mind games.

 

"Ugh," Nebula rolls her eyes, but her features soften. "Fine. You win, but I swear if he ends up killing us, I will come back from the dead, resurrect you, and disembowel you, repeatedly."

 

"Graphic, but okay," Tony says and slides his fingers over the control panel to let Loki out of the airlock and back into the ship. He isn't sure what happens first, sending the command to open the door into the ship or the entire ship shaking. The airlock door doesn't open.

 

"I'll check what that was," Nebula says and the ship shakes again. This time Tony nearly loses his footing.

 

"Yeah," he says and runs the control sequence again. Still nothing. "Hey Loki," he says through the comm, "letting you back inside in a second." He pulls up the manual override panel and pulls down the switch. The ship shakes again and this time something above his head busts and shoots steam down against him. Tony barely has time to throw up his arm and hit his chest, but the arc reactor is on the shirt on the floor beside the table he had been on. He can feel his skin scald and blister as he jumps backwards.

 

"Meteor shower!" Nebula shouts from the cockpit and he can hear the engines engage. "Several hull breaches! One of them in the airlock!"

 

That's why the override isn't working. Tony doesn't pause to look at his arm, he runs to grab the shirt, pulls it over his head, the pain in his arm searing along his nerves but there is no time. If they're lucky, Loki hasn't suffocated yet. If they're lucky he knows it wasn't them, that they had no intention of killing him. The suit envelops him as he makes his way to the secondary airlock, no bigger than a person at the bottom of the ship. He needs to hurry.

 

"Sunday, talk to me, airlock, how much air is left?" He asks as he hit the mechanism to close the door behind him and vent the air.

 

"Less than 20%," Sunday informs him. It had been barely minutes and Loki had lost most of the air in the airlock. The guy has seconds. Tony banks the suit hard around the ship to the airlock. He can see the hole, it's the size of a fist, but he doesn't see any biological debris indicating that Loki had been sucked out through it, but Tony doesn't wait, doesn't ponder what that would mean. The oxygen flow out of the hole isn't as fast as it should be but he can't think about that right now, he has to seal it. The ship banks hard and all of his sensor alarms go off at once. He manages to plaster himself against the hull to avoid the rain of meteors which follows.

 

"Hurry up Stark, we need to get out of here!" He hears Nebula much too loud inside his ear.

 

"Trying," he grinds out and manages to seal the hole while staying close to the doors to avoid getting hit. "Okay coming back in! Sunday how much air?"

 

"The less than four per cent," Sunday says quietly and Tony hurries to get back inside the ship. "Air in the airlock has run out." Sunday updates and Tony feels cold as he waits for the equilibrium to establish so he can get back, so he can open that airlock. He doesn't bother taking off the suit, flies it hard and fast through the tiny tube leading back up into the main part of the ship. He can hear Nebula shout that they’re sitting ducks, but there is no time. He taps the reactor and the suit peels away as he runs to the control panel ignoring the hot steam as he runs the manual override again. This time it opens.

 

When he enters and the air rushes in with a hiss, Loki is floating in the middle of the space, fists bloody, small pools of blood on the floor, hair peacefully floating around him as if it weighed nothing as if he was in space. There is a soft glow around him and when Tony steps closer, he can see it is tiny golden runes bursting on his skin with a soft glow and sinking into him over and over again. He doesn't look conscious but he also doesn't look dead or frozen. There is a metal panel in front of the hole which looks as if it has been ripped from somewhere and when Tony trips over a hole in the floor, he knows from where it came. Tony wonders how Loki had found the strength to rip it from the floor. Maybe his powers haven’t fully returned.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as he tries to imagine how Loki must have felt in here.

 

***

_When the ship shakes, the noise which escapes Loki’s throat is undignified like a lamb terrified of slaughter. He does not want to die. Not like this. The door to the cold, dark void of space however does not open. There is a brief moment of relief, a brief moment of respite but there still are no voices. The impact is sudden. He has no time to scream as the sudden rush of atmosphere toward the fist sized hole in the outer door robs him of the air to scream. The glowing rock is embedded in the inner walls but there is no time to ponder, there is no time to think. All he can do is act. If he does not, he will be sucked out of that fist sized hole or suffocate. He can't let either happen. He wants to live, he wants to fucking live. Gripping at a floor panel, he screams, knows he's wasting precious air but he cannot let this moment go, he cannot allow himself to die. He screams when the metal carves the flesh from his knuckles. He does not know where he finds the strength to shove his fingers underneath the panel, feels his tendons rupture and his bones crack. But he tears, blood dripping down his fingers as he screams, as he fights against the pull. He will not die here. Something ruptures in his forearm when he tears the panel from the floor and loses his footing, pulled toward the fist sized hole. The rush stops when metal slams against metal, but as he tries to catch his breath, he knows he is too late. There is not enough oxygen left in the airlock for him to survive much longer._

_At least he does not die without a fight, he thinks as his body convulses while he gasps trying to breathe. At least he never gave up. The artificial gravity stutters and disengages and when he feels his body lift from the ground, he can feel it again, the pull from across the universe. Or perhaps just from across the other side of the door. It no longer matters. He closes his eyes and allows himself to float, weightless. He listens to the call, far, far away. He is ready now. He is at peace with his life. Mother, he thinks and sees her smile at him. He can feel her across the stars. Mother, he thinks, I'm coming home. Mother, he thinks as he breathes his final breath. He does not see the runes beginning to glow around his body. He does not feel the thread which connects him to the universe curl inside him. He does not hear Tony through the comm system. All he knows is peace._

***

 

"Loki?" Tony asks quietly and reaches out to touch him. When he does, there is a burst of energy and Loki falls to the floor, hits it hard with a groan.

 

"Stark?" He asks coughing as he pushes himself sitting. There's hesitation in his voice, his entire body tense as if he's waiting for an attack.

 

"Hey yeah," Tony says and keeps his distance. Loki still looks a bit confused but once what happened settles in, Tony isn't sure how that is gonna play out. He hopes without needing to put on his suit.

 

"She-," Loki grimaces as pushes himself standing, "You locked me in here." His voice is a freezing dagger. Tony knows he deserves that. It doesn't matter that it had been Nebula who locked Loki in here, Tony should have tried harder to stop her.

 

"It was a mis- no you know what, I'm sorry." He says and runs a hand through his sweat slicked hair. He grimaces when the pain throbs up his arm. He doesn't want to look at the damage. "That shouldn't have happened. We're supposed to trust each other." He notices the green glow in Loki's hand. He's seen that before. So what Nebula said is true. He does have his powers back but looking at Loki, Tony isn't sure the guy actually knows.

 

"Yes," Loki's voice is still ice. "It was."

 

"Look," Tony closes his eyes and takes a breath to steady himself. The pain is throbbing and it continues along his arm until he feels it in his entire body. "I would love to talk this out but I'm gonna pass out if I don't get some painkillers in me and something on this burn. He turns to leaves but Loki grabs his injured arm hard enough that he shouts with pain. He moves to fight back but then he feels a cool trickle along his arm. The runes he had seen around Loki glow on his skin and sink into it and as they do they spread the sensation across the injured arm. Tony looks on with wonder as he sees them glow and the burn fade away as his cells regenerate faster than they normally would. And then, as if nothing ever happened, the pain is gone and Tony's arm looks as if it never had been burned.

 

"That's twice in a day, Stark," Loki says quietly, "perhaps you should endeavour to be less reckless with your life. I might not always be around to save it."

 

"Pretty sure that burn wasn't fatal," Tony mumbles as he runs his hand over the healed skin. "When did you figure out you had your powers back?" He asks because adult conversation, talking it out, that's back on the table.

 

"The moment I made peace with death in the airlock," Loki says but the ice in his voice has melted away and reveals something else. He's hurt. Of course he is, but Tony never imagined he would feel like shit because Loki of all people believed he'd meant to kill him by throwing him out an airlock.

 

"That was crap timing," but Tony knows that's not an excuse. "I'll- we can go back. I'll make her go back. You don't have to stay."

 

For a moment, Loki looks like he just might take him up on the offer. Tony is surprised he feels relief when Loki shakes his head. Or maybe he isn't surprised by the relief but rather by Loki saying he will stay.

 

Loki sighs. He knows he should leave but he remembers Tony saving him from that monster, Tony without question helping him when he was bleeding. Nebula hadn't left him in that cell when she figured out he wasn't Tony despite knowing who he was. And after all, Tony had seriously injured himself trying to save Loki’s life. There is nowhere else for him to go. This is the closest he has been to a purpose since he had woken up on the Grandmaster’s ship.

 

"I can't leave," he finally says. "Look what happens to you when I leave you alone. And with my brother's morality finally rubbing off, if something happened to I would feel too guilty to enjoy the pleasures of the universe. No, I think it is best if I stay as it appears Nebula is not quite up to the task of constantly saving you." And with that, he steps over the threshold back into the ship.

 

"Hey wait a second!" Tony rushes after him. "When did this become about saving _my_ ass?"

 

"The moment I realised you are the only one helpless on this ship." He still isn’t sure that is entirely true. He can feel the thread connecting him to the energy of the universe but it is still thin, still fragile.

 

“When was that?”

 

“The moment I realised I did not die in that airlock despite your best efforts.” Perhaps that is the truth, even Loki is not entirely sure.

 

“You know that wasn’t on purpose.”

 

“Do I?” Loki gives Tony a look and Tony actually takes a step back. Finally the man remembers he should fear Loki, should be terrified of the consequences he could bring after such careless actions. But Tony apparently only takes a step back so he could reach the bottle hidden in a wall space behind him. He takes a swig and hands it to Loki. Somehow, he isn’t surprised and shakes his head at the absurdity of the situation. He should be tearing apart the ship now that he can feel the thread of the universe inside him again, but he doesn’t. He leans against the wall instead as he feels himself finally relax.

 

“You do,” he says and Loki supposes that he is quite right.

 

“I do,” he says and takes the bottle with a smile.

 

 


End file.
